SYMPHONIES 

AND  THEIR  MEANING 


BY   PH 


GOEPP 


THIRD    SERIES 
MODERN    SYMPHONIES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SYMPHONIES 

AND  THEIR  MEANING 

THIRD  SERIES 
MODERN  SYMPHONIES 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

SYMPHONIES 

AND  THEIR  MEANING 
SERIES  I. 

12mo.    407  pages.    Cloth.  $2.00,  net. 

This  work,  now  in  its  eighth  edition, 
takes  up  the  representative  sym- 
phonies of  the  great  composers. 
Illustrating  his  remarks  with  excerpts 
from  the  score,  the  author  shows  the 
individuality,  the  special  intention  of 
the  master,  and,  where  possible,  the 
underlying  purpose  of  his  art.  As  an 
aid  in  the  study  of  the  symphony, 
and  as  a  companion  at  symphony 
concerts,  the  book  is  without  a  rival. 

SYMPHONIES 

AND  THEIR  MEANING 

SERIES  II. 
Itmo.    498  pages.    Cloth,  $2.00,  net. 

This  book  completes  the  whole  sur- 
vey of  classic  symphonies. 


SYMPHONIES 

AND    THEIR    MEANING 

THIRD  SERIES 
MODERN  SYMPHONIES 

BY  PHILIP  H.  GOEPP 


PHILADELPHIA   &  LONDON 

J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT    COMPANY 

1913 


COPTRIOHT,  1913 

BY 
J.    B.    LlPPINCOTT   COMPANT 


Published  October,  1013 


PRINTED  BT  J.  B.   LlPPINCOTT  COMPANY 
AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 
.         PHILADELPHIA,    U.  8    A. 


Library 

NT 


PREFACE 

CRITICISM  of  contemporary  art  is  really  a  kind 
of  prophecy.  For  the  appreciation  of  the  classical 
past  is  an  act  of  present  perception,  not  a  mere 
memory  of  popular  verdicts.  The  classics  live  only 
because  they  still  express  the  vital  feeling  of  to-day. 
The  new  art  must  do  more,  —  must  speak  for  the 
morrow.  And  as  the  poet  is  a  kind  of  seer,  the  true 
critic  is  his  prophetic  herald. 

It  is  with  due  humility  that  we  approach  a  view 
of  the  work  of  our  own  time,  with  a  dim  feeling  that 
our  best  will  be  a  mere  conjecture.  But  we  shall 
the  more  cheerfully  return  to  our  resolution  that  our 
chief  business  is  a  positive  appreciation.  Where  we 
cannot  praise,  we  can  generally  be  silent.  Certain 
truths  concerning  contemporary  art  seem  firmly 
grounded  in  the  recorded  past.  The  new  Messiah 
never  came  with  instant  wide  acclaim.  Many  false 
prophets  flashed  brilliantly  on  the  horizon  to  fall 
as  suddenly  as  they  rose.  In  a  refracted  view  we  see 
the  figures  of  the  great  projected  in  too  large  dimen- 
sion upon  their  day.  And  precisely  opposite  we  fail 
to  glimpse  the  ephemeral  lights  obscuring  the  truly 
great.  The  lesson  seems  never  to  be  learned  ;  indent 
it  can,  of  course,  never  be  learned.  For  that  would 
imply  an  eternal  paradox  that  the  present  generation 
must  always  distrust  its  own  judgment. 

1 


2018820 


PREFACE 

Who  could  possibly  imagine  in  Schubert's  time 
the  sway  he  holds  to-day.  Our  minds  reel  to  think 
that  by  a  mere  accident  were  recovered  the  Passion 
of  Bach  and  the  symphonies  of  Schubert.  Or  must 
we  prayerfully  believe  that  a  Providence  will  make 
the  best  prevail?  And,  by  the  way,  the  serious 
nature  of  this  appreciation  appears  when,  we  see 
how  it  was  ever  by  the  greatest  of  his  time  that  the 
future  master  was  heralded. 

The  symphony  of  the  present  age  has  perhaps 
fallen  somewhat  in  estate.  It  was  natural  that  it 
should  rush  to  a  high  perfection  in  the  halcyon  days 
of  its  growth.  It  is  easy  to  make  mournful  predic- 
tions of  decadence.  The  truth  is  the  symphony  is 
a  great  form  of  art,  like  a  temple  or  a  tragedy.  Like 
them  it  has  had,  it  will  have  its  special  eras  of 
great  expression.  Like  them  it  will  stay  as  a  mode 
of  utterance  for  new  communities  and  epochs  with 
varying  nationality,  or  better  still,  with  vanishing 
nationalism. 

The  tragedy  was  not  exhausted  with  Sophocles, 
nor  with  Shakespeare  nor  with  Goethe.  So  the 
symphony  has  its  fallow  periods  and  it  may  have  a 
new  resurgence  under  new  climes.  We  are  ever 
impatient  to  shelve  a  great  form,  like  vain  women 
afraid  of  the  fashion.  It  is  part  of  our  constant 
rage  for  novelty.  The  shallower  artist  ever  tinkered 
with  new  devices, — to  some  effects,  in  truth.  Such 
is  the  empiric  course  of  art  that  what  is  born  of 
vanity  may  be  crowned  with  highest  inspiration. 

The  national  element  will  fill  a  large  part  of  our 
2 


PREFACE 

survey.  It  marks  a  strange  trait  of  our  own  age 
that  this  revival  of  the  national  idea  falls  in  the 
very  time  when  other  barriers  are  broken.  Ancient 
folk-song  grew  like  the  flower  on  the  battle-field  of 
races.  But  here  is  an  anxious  striving  for  a  special 
dialect  in  music.  Each  nation  must  have  its  proper 
school;  composers  are  strictly  labelled,  each  one 
obedient  to  his  national  manner.  This  state  of 
art  can  be  but  of  the  day.  Indeed,  the  fairest  promise 
of  a  greater  future  lies  in  the  morrow's  blending 
of  these  various  elements  in  the  land  where  each 
citizen  has  a  mixed  inheritance  from  the  older 
nations. 

In  the  bewildering  midst  of  active  spirits  comes 
the  irresistible  impulse  to  a  somewhat  partisan 
warfare.  The  critic,  if  he  could  view  himself  from 
some  empyrsean  perch,  remote  in  time  and  place, 
might  smile  at  his  own  vehemence.  In  the  clash  of 
aims  he  must,  after  all,  take  sides,  for  it  is  the 
tendency  that  is  momentous ;  and  he  will  be  excited 
to  greater  heat  the  stronger  the  prophet  that  he 
deems  false.  When  the  strife  is  over,  when  currents 
are  finally  settled,  we  may  take  a  more  contented 
joy  in  the  impersonal  art  that  remains. 

The  choice  from  the  mass  of  brilliant  vital 
endeavor  is  a  new  burden  and  a  source  almost  of 
dismay.  Why  should  we  omit  so  melodious  a  work 
as  Moskowski's  Jeanne  d'Arc, — full  of  perhaps  too 
facile  charm?  It  was,  of  course,  impossible  to  treat 
all  the  wonderful  music  of  the  Glazounows  and  the 
Kallinikows.  And  there  is  the  limpid  beauty  of  the 

3 


PREFACE 

Bohemian  Suk,  or  the  heroic  vigor  of  a  Volbach. 
We  should  like  to  have  mentioned  Robert  Volkmann 
as  a  later  Komanticist;  and  Gade  has  ever  seemed 
a  true  poet  of  the  Scandinavian  symphony. 

Of  the  modern  French  we  are  loth  to  omit  the 
symphonies  of  Chausson  and  of  Dulcas.  In  our  own 
America  it  is  a  still  harder  problem.  There  is  the 
masterly  writing  of  a  Foote;  the  older  Paine  has 
never  been  fully  valued  in  the  mad  race  for  novelty. 
It  would  have  been  a  joy  to  include  a  symphony  of 
rare  charm  by  Martinus  van  Gelder. 

A  critical  work  on  modern  art  cannot  hope  to 
bestow  a  crown  of  laurels  among  living  masters;  it 
must  be  content  with  a  view  of  active  tendencies. 
The  greatest  classic  has  often  come  into  the  world 
amid  least  expectation.  A  critic  in  the  year  1850 
must  need  have  omitted  the  Unfinished  Symphony, 
which  was  then  buried  in  a  long  oblivion. 

The  present  author  prefers  to  treat  the  main 
modern  lines,  considering  the  special  work  mainly 
as  example.  After  all,  throughout  the  realm  of  art 
the  idea  is  greater  than  the  poet,  the  whole  art  more 
than  the  artist, — though  the  particular  enshrine- 
ment  in  enduring  design  may  reflect  a  rare 
personality. 

PHILIP  H.  GOEPP. 

NOTE:  Especial  thanks  are  owed  to  the  Philadelphia 
Orchestra  for  a  free  use  of  its  library,  and  to  Messrs.  G. 
Schirmer  Company  for  a  like  courtesy. — P.  H.  G. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I. — The    Symphony    during    the    Nineteenth 

Century 7 

CHAPTER  II. — Berlioz  and  Liszt 15 

CHAPTER  III. — Berlioz.    "Romeo  and  Juliet."   Dramatic 

Symphony 19 

CHAPTER  IV. — A  Symphony  to  Dante's  "Divina  Corn- 
media"  28 

CHAPTER  V. — The  Symphonic  Poems  of  Liszt 39 

'Les  Preludes" 41 

'Tasso" 44 

'Mazeppa" 49 

'Battle  of  the  Huns" 53 

CHAPTER  VI. — The  Symphonic  Poems  of  Saint-Saens. .  59 

'  Danse  Macabre r' 60 

'Phaeton" 63 

'The  Youth  of  Hercules" 65 

'Omphale's  Spuming  Wheel" 69 

CHAPTER  VII.— |-C6sar  Franck 72 

Symphony  in  D  minor 75 

CHAPTER  VIII. — D'Indy  and  the  Followers  of  Franck. .     82 
D'Indy's  Second  Symphony 82 

CHAPTER  IX. — D6bussy  and  the  Innovators 91 

"The  Sea"— Debussy 97 

"The  Sorcerer's  Apprentice"— Dukas 106 

CHAPTER  X. — Tschaikowsky 114 

Fourth  Symphony 116 

"Manfred "  Symphony 125 

Fifth  Symphony 132 

5 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XI. — The  Neo-Russians 143 

Balakirew.    Symphony  in  C 146 

Rimsky-Korsakow 155 

" Antar"  Symphony 155 

"Sche'r^zade.       Symphonic  Suite 159 

Rachmaninow.    Symphony  in  E  minor 164 

CHAPTER  XII. — Sibelius.     A  Finnish  Symphony 178 

CHAPTER  XIII. — Bohemian  Symphonies 189 

Smetana.  Symphonic  Poem:  "The  Moldau  River."  190 
Dv6rak.    Symphony:  "From  the  New  World" 195 

CHAPTER  XIV. — The  Earlier  Bruckner 208 

Second  Symphony 210 

Fourth  (Romantic)  Symphony 211 

Fifth  Symphony 214 

CHAPTER  XV. — The  Later  Bruckner 215 

Ninth  Symphony 218 

CHAPTER  XVI.— Hugo  Wolff 230 

"Penthesilea."     Symphonic  Poem 230 

CHAPTER  XVII.— Mahler 243 

Fifth  Symphony 244 

CHAPTER  XVIII. — Richard  Strauss.   Symphonic  Poems .  261 

"Death  and  Transfiguration" 263 

"Don  Juan" 273 

"Till  Eulenspiegel's  Merry  Pranks" 278 

"Sinfonia  Domestica" 288 

CHAPTER  XIX. — Italian  Symphonies 299 

Sgambati.    Symphony  in  D  major 300 

Martucci.    Symphony  in  D  minor 301 

CHAPTER  XX. — Edward  Elgar.    An  English  Symphony .  308 

CHAPTER  XXI. — Symphonies  in  America 321 

Henry  Hadley.    Symphony  No.  3 321 

Gustay  Strube.    Symphony  in  D  minor 329 

Chadwick.    Suite  Symphonique 342 

Loeffler.    "  The  Devil's  Round."   Symphonic  Poem.  351 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR 

MEANING 
MODERN  SYMPHONIES 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   SYMPHONY   DURING   THE   NINE- 
TEENTH CENTUEY 

A?TER  the  long  dominance  of  German  masters 
of  the  musical  art,  a  reaction  could  not  fail 
to  come  with  the  restless  tendencies  of  other  nations, 
who,  having  learned  the  lesson,  were  yet  jealous  of 
foreign  models  and  eager  to  utter  their  own  message. 
The  later  nineteenth  century  was  thus  the  age  of 
refraction  of  the  classic  tradition  among  the  various 
racial  groups  that  sprang  up  with  the  rise  of  the 
national  idea.  We  can  see  a  kind  of  beginning  in  the 
Napoleonic  destruction  of  feudal  dynasties.  German 
authority  in  music  at  the  beginning  of  the  century 
was  as  absolute  as  Roman  rule  in  the  age  of  Augustus. 
But  the  seed  was  carried  by  teachers  to  the  various 
centres  of  Europe.  And,  with  all  the  joy  we  have  in 
the  new  burst  of  a  nation's  song,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  it  is  ever  best  uttered  when  it  is  grounded  on  the 
lines  of  classic  art.  Here  is  a  paramount  reason  for 
the  strength  of  the  modern  Russian  school.  With 
this  semi-political  cause  in  mind  it  is  less  difficult 

7 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

to  grasp  the  paradox  that  with  all  the  growth  of  inter- 
communication the  music  of  Europe  moves  in  more 
detached  grooves  to-day  than  two  centuries  ago.  The 
suite  in  the  time  of  Bach  is  a  special  type  and  proof 
of  a  blended  breadth  and  unity  of  musical  thought 
in  the  various  nations  of  Europe  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  In  the  quaint  series  of  dances  of  the  differ- 
ent peoples,  with  a  certain  international  quality,  one 
sees  a  direct  effect  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War, — the 
beneficent  side  of  those  ill  winds  and  cruel  blasts, 
when  all  kinds  of  nations  were  jostling  on  a  common 
battle-ground.  And  as  the  folk-dances  sprang  from 
the  various  corners  of  Europe,  so  different  nations 
nursed  the  artistic  growth  of  the  form.  Each  would 
treat  the  dances  of  the  other  in  its  own  way,  and  here 
is  the  significance  of  Bach's  separate  suites, — English, 
French  and  German. 

Nationalism  seems  thus  a  prevailing  element  in  the 
music  of  to-day,  and  we  may  perceive  two  kinds,  one 
spontaneous  and  full  of  charm,  the  other  a  result  of 
conscious  effort,  sophisticated  in  spirit  and  in  detail. 
It  may  as  well  be  said  that  there  was  no  compelling 
call  for  a  separate  French  school  in  the  nineteenth 
century  as  a  national  utterance.  It  sprang  from  a 
political  rather  than  an  artistic  motive;  it  was  the 
itch  of  jealous  pride  that  sharply  stressed  the  differ- 
ence of  musical  style  on  the  two  sides  of  the  Rhine. 
The  very  influence  of  German  music  was  needed  by 
the  French  rather  than  a  bizarre  invention  of  national 
traits.  The  broader  art  of  a  Saint-Saens  here  shines 

8 


SYMPHONY  DURING  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

in  contrast  with  the  brilliant  conceits  of  his  younger 
compatriots,  though  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  lat- 
ter are  grounded  in  classic  counterpoint.  With  other 
nations  the  impulse  was  more  natural :  the  racial  song 
of  the  Scandinavians,  Czechs  and  other  Slavs  craved 
a  deliverance  as  much  as  the  German  in  the-  time  of 
Schubert.  In  France,  where  music  had  long  flour- 
ished, there  was  no  stream  of  suppressed  folk-song. 

But  the  symphony  must  in  the  natural  course  have 
suffered  from  the  very  fulness  of  its  own  triumph. 
We  know  the  Romantic  reaction  of  Schumann, 
uttered  in  smaller  cyclic  forms;  in  Berlioz  is  almost 
a  complete  abandonment  of  pure  music,  devoid  of 
special  description.  Liszt  was  one  of  the  mighty 
figures  of  the  century,  with  all  the  external  qualities 
of  a  master-genius,  shaking  the  stage  of  Europe  with 
the  weight  of  his  personality,  and,  besides,  endowed 
with  a  creative  power  that  was  not  understood  in 
his  day.  With  him  the  restless  tendency  resulted  in 
a  new  form  intended  to  displace  the  symphony:  the 
symphonic  poem,  in  a  single,  varied  movement,  and 
always  on  a  definite  poetic  subject.  Here  was  at 
once  a  relief  and  a  recess  from  the  classic  rigor. 
Away  with  sonata  form  and  all  the  odious  code  of 
rules !  In  the  story  of  the  title  will  lie  all  the  outline 
of  the  music. 

Yet  in  this  rebellious  age — and  here  is  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  form — the  symphony  did  not  languish, 
but  blossomed  to  new  and  varied  flower.  Liszt  turned 
back  to  the  symphony  from  his  new-fangled  device 

9 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

for  his  two  greatest  works.  It  has,  indeed,  been 
charged  that  the  symphony  was  accepted  by  the  Ro- 
mantic  masters  in  the  spirit  of  a  challenge.  Mendels- 
sohn and  even  Schumann  are  not  entirely  free  from 
such  a  suspicion.  Nevertheless  it  remains  true  that 
all  of  them  confided  to  the  symphony  their  fairest 
inspiration.  About  the  middle  of  the  century,  at 
the  high  point  of  anti-classical  revolt,  a  wonderful 
group  of  symphonies,  by  Berlioz,  Mendelssohn,  Schu- 
mann, and  Liszt,  were  presented  to  the  world.  With 
the  younger  Brahms  on  a  returning  wave  of  neo- 
classicism  the  form  became  again  distinctively  a 
personal  choice.  Finally,  in  the  spontaneous  utter- 
ance of  a  national  spirit  on  broad  lines,  as  in  the 
later  Russian  and  Finnish  examples,  with  the  various 
phases  of  surging  resolution,  of  lyric  contemplation 
and  of  rollicking  humor,  the  symphony  has  its  best 
sanction  in  modern  times. 

To  return  to  the  historical  view,  the  course  of  the 
symphony  during  the  century  cannot  be  adequately 
scanned  without  a  glance  at  the  music-drama  of 
Richard  Wagner.  Until  the  middle  of  the  century, 
symphony  and  opera  had  moved  entirely  in  separate 
channels.  At  most  the  overture  was  affected,  in  tem- 
per and  detail,  by  the  career  of  the  nobler  form. 

The  restless  iconoclasm  of  a  Liszt  was  now  united, 
in  a  close  personal  and  poetic  league,  with  the  new 
ideas  of  Wagner's  later  drama.  Both  men  adopted 
the  symbolic  motif  as  their  main  melodic  means; 

10 


SYMPHONY  DURING  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

with  both  mere  iteration  took  the  place  of  develop- 
ment; a  brilliant  and  lurid  color-scheme  (of  orches- 
tration) served  to  hide  the  weakness  of  intrinsic  con- 
tent ;  a  vehement  and  hysteric  manner  cast  into  tem- 
porary shade  the  classic  mood  of  tranquil  depth  in 
which  alone  man's  greatest  thought  is  born. 

But  a  still  larger  view  of  the  whole  temper  of  art 
in  Europe  of  the  later  century  is  needed.  We  wander 
here  beyond  the  fine  distinctions  of  musical  forms.  A 
new  wave  of  feeling  had  come  over  the  world  that 
violently  affected  all  processes  of  thought.  And 
strangely,  it  was  strongest  in  the  land  where  the 
great  heights  of  poetry  and  music  had  just  been 
reached.  Where  the  high  aim  of  a  Beethoven  and  a 
Goethe  had  been  proclaimed,  arose  a  Wagner  to 
preach  the  gospel  of  brute  fate  and  nature,  where  love 
was  the  involuntary  sequence  of  mechanical  device 
and  ended  in  inevitable  death,  all  overthrowing  the 
heroic  idea  that  teems  throughout  the  classic  scores, 
crowned  in  a  greatest  symphony  in  praise  of  "  Joy." 

Such  was  the  intrinsic  content  of  a  "  Tristan  and 
Isolde "  and  the  whole  "  Nibelungen-King,"  and  it 
was  uttered  with  a  sensuous  wealth  of  sound  and  a 
passionate  strain  of  melody  that  (without  special 
greatness  of  its  own)  dazzled  and  charmed  the  world 
in  the  dramatic  setting  of  mediaeval  legend.  The  new 
harmonic  style  of  Wagner,  there  is  good  reason  to 
suppose,  was  in  reality  first  conceived  by  Liszt,  whose 
larger  works,  written  about  the  middle  of  the  cen- 

11 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

tury,  have  but  lately  come  to  light.*  In  correspond- 
ence with  this  moral  mutiny  was  the  complete  revolt 
from  classic  art — tradition:  melody  (at  least  in 
theory),  the  vital  quality  of  musical  form  and  the 
true  process  of  a  coherent  thread,  were  cast  to  the 
winds  with  earlier  poetic  ideals. 

If  it  were  ever  true  that  a  single  personality  could 
change  an  opposite  course  of  thought,  it  must  be  held 
that  Eichard  Wagner,  in  his  own  striking  and  de- 
cadent career,  comes  nearest  to  such  a  type.  But  he 
was  clearly  prompted  and  reinforced  in  his  philosophy 
by  other  men  and  tendencies  of  his  time.  The  real- 
ism of  a  Schopenhauer,  which  Wagner  frankly 
adopted  without  its  full  significance  (where  primal 
will  finds  a  redemption  in  euthanasia),  led  by  a 
natural  course  of  thought  to  Nietzsche's  dreams  of  an 
overman,  who  tramples  on  his  kind. 

In  itself  this  philosophy  had  been  more  of  a  passing 
phase  (even  as  Schopenhauer  is  lost  in  the  chain  of 
ethical  sages)  but  for  its  strange  coincidence  with  the 
Wagnerian  music.  The  accident  of  this  alliance  gave 
it  an  overwhelming  power  in  Germany,  where  it  soon 
threatened  to  corrupt  all  the  arts,  banishing  idealism 

*  The  "  Dante  "  Symphony  of  Liszt  was  written  between 
1847  and  1855;  the  "Faust"  Symphony  between  1854  and 
1857.  Wagner  finished  the  text  of  Tristan  und  Isolde  in 
1857;  the  music  was  not  completed  until  1859.  In  1863 
was  published  the  libretto  'of  the  Nibelungen-Ring.  In 
1864  Wagner  was  invited  by  King  Ludwig  of  Bavaria  to 
complete  the  work  in  Munich. 

12 


SYMPHONY  DURING  NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

from  the  land  of  its  special  haunts.*  The  ultimate 
weakness  of  the  Wagnerian  philosophy  is  that  it  finds 
in  fatalism  an  excuse  for  the  surrender  of  heroic 
virtue, — not  in  the  spirit  of  a  tragic  truth,  but  in  a 
glorification  of  the  senses;  just  as  in  Wagner's  final 
work,  the  ascetic,  sinless  type  becomes  a  figure  almost 
of  ridicule,  devoid  of  human  reality.  It  is  significant 
that  with  the  revival  of  a  sound  art,  fraught  with 
resolute  aspiration,  is  imminent  a  return  to  an  ideal- 
istic system  of  philosophy. 

In  the  musical  art  even  of  Germany  the  triumph 
was  never  complete.  The  famous  feud  of  Brahms 
and  Wagner  partisans  marked  the  alignment  of  the 
classical  and  radical  traditions.  Throughout  the  sec- 
ond half  of  the  century  the  banner  of  a  true  musical 
process  was  upheld;  the  personal  meeting  of  the 
youthful  Brahms  with  the  declining  Schumann  is 
wonderfully  significant,  viewed  as  a  symbol  of  this 
passing  of  the  classic  mantle.  And  the  symphonies 
of  Gustav  Mahler  seem  an  assurance  of  present  ten- 
dencies. The  influence  of  Bach,  revived  early  in  the 
century,  grew  steadily  as  a  latent  leaven. 

Nevertheless  in  the  prevailing  taste  and  temper 

*  In  literature  this  movement  is  most  marked,  as  may  be 
seen  by  contrasting  the  tone  of  Goethe  with  that  of  Suder- 
mann;  by  noting  the  decadence  from  the  stories  of  a 
Chamisseau  and  Immermann  to  those  of  a  Gottfried  Keller; 
from  the  novels  of  Freytag  to  the  latest  of  Frenssen  and 
Arthur  Schnitzler;  from  the  poems  of  Heine  to  those  of 
HofFmansthal,  author  of  the  text  of  Strauss'  later  operas. 

Or,  contrast  merely  the  two  typical  dramas  of  love, 
Goethe's  "Faust"  and  Wagner's  "Tristan  and  Isolde." 

13 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

of  present  German  music,  in  the  spirit  of  the  most 
popular  works,  as  those  of  Richard  Strauss  (who 
seems  to  have  sold  his  poetic  birthright),  the  after- 
math of  this  wave  is  felt,  and  not  least  in  the  acclaim 
of  the  barren  symphonies  of  a  Bruckner.  It  is  well 
known  that  Bruckner,  who  paid  a  personal  homage  to 
Wagner,  became  a  political  figure  in  the  partisan 
dispute,  when  he  was  put  forth  as  the  antagonist 
of  Brahms  in  the  symphony.  His  present  vogue  is 
due  to  this  association  and  to  his  frank  adoption  of 
Wagner  idiom  in  his  later  works,  as  well  as,  more 
generally,  to  the  lowered  taste  in  Germany. 

In  all  this  division  of  musical  dialect,  in  the  shat- 
tering of  the  classic  tower  among  the  diverse  tongues 
of  many  peoples,  what  is  to  be  the  harvest?  The 
full  symbol  of  a  Babel  does  not  hold  for  the  tonal 
art.  Music  is,  in  its  nature,  a  single  language  for 
the  world,  as  its  alphabet  rests  on  ideal  elements. 
It  has  no  national  limits,  like  prose  or  poetry;  its 
home  is  the  whole  world;  its  idiom  the  blended  song 
of  all  nations. 

In  such  a  view  there  is  less  hope  in  the  older  than 
in  the  newer  world.  No  single,  limited  song  of  one 
nation  can  in  the  future  achieve  a  second  climax 
of  the  art.  It  is  by  the  actual  mingling  of  them 
all  that  the  fairest  flower  and  fruit  must  come.  The 
very  absence  of  one  prevailing  native  song,  held  a 
reproach  to  America,  is  in  reality  her  strength;  for 
hers  is  the  common  heritage  of  all  strains  of  song. 
And  it  may  be  her  destiny  to  lead  in  the  glorious 
merging  of  them  all. 

14 


CHAPTER  II 
BERLIOZ  AND  LISZT 

THE  path  of  progress  of  an  art  has  little  to  do 
with  mere  chronology.  For  here  in  early  days 
are  bold  spirits  whose  influence  is  not  felt  until  a 
whole  generation  has  passed  of  a  former  tradition. 
Nor  are  these  patient  pioneers  always  the  best- 
inspired  prophets;  the  mere  fate  of  slow  recognition 
does  not  imply  a  highest  genius.  A  radical  innova- 
tion may  provoke  a  just  and  natural  resistance. 
Again,  a  gradual  yielding  is  not  always  due  to  the 
pure  force  of  truth.  Strange  and  oblique  ideas  may 
slowly  win  a  triumph  that  is  not  wholly  merited  and 
may  not  prove  enduring. 

To  fully  grapple  with  this  mystery,  we  may  still 
hold  to  the  faith  that  final  victory  comes  only  to 
pure  truth,  and  yet  we  may  find  that  imperfect  truth 
will  often  achieve  a  slow  and  late  acceptance.  The 
victory  may  then  be  viewed  in  either  of  two  ways :  the 
whole  spirit  of  the  age  yields  to  the  brilliant  allure- 
men^  or  there  is  an  overweighing  balance  of  true 
beauty  that  deserves  the  prize  of  permanence.  Of  such 
a  kind  were  two  principal  composers  of  the  symphony : 
Franz  Liszt  and  Hector  Berlioz.  Long  after  they  had 
wrought  their  greatest  works,  others  had  come  and 

15 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

gone  in  truer  line  with  the  first  masters,  until  it 
seemed  these  radical  spirits  had  been  quite  rejected. 

Besides  the  masters  of  their  own  day,  Schumann 
and  Mendelssohn,  a  group  of  minor  poets,  like  Eaff 
and  Goetz,  appeared,  and  at  last  Brahms,  the  latest 
great  builder  of  the  symphony,  all  following  and 
crowning  the  classical  tradition. 

The  slow  reception  of  the  larger  works  of  Liszt 
strangely  agrees  with  the  startling  resemblance  of 
their  manner  to  the  Eussian  style  that  captivated  a 
much  later  age.  It  seemed  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  Hun- 
garian was  suddenly  revived  in  a  new  national  group. 
His  humor  wonderfully  suited  the  restless  and  sensa- 
tional temper  of  an  age  that  began  after  his  death. 

The  very  harmonies  and  passionate  manner  that 
influence  modern  audiences  evoked  a  dull  indifference 
in  their  own  day.*  They  roused  the  first  acclaim 
when  presented  in  the  more  popular  form  of  the 
music-drama.  It  may  well  be  questioned  whether 
Liszt  was  not  the  fountain  source  of  the  characteristic 
harmonies  of  Wagner's  later  opera. 

Historically  considered,  that  is  in  their  relation 
to  other  music  preceding  and  following  them,  the 
symphonies  of  Liszt  have  striking  interest.  They  are 
in  boldest  departure  from  all  other  symphonies,  save 
possibly  those  of  Berlioz,  and  they  were  prophetic  in 

*  Compare  the  similarity  of  the  themes  of  the  Faust 
Symphony  of  Liszt  and  of  the  PatMtique  of  Tschaikowsky 
in  the  last  chapter  of  vol.  ii,  "  Symphonies  and  Their 
Meaning." 

16 


BERLIOZ  AND  LISZT 

a  degree  only  apparent  a  half-century  later.  If  the 
quality  of  being  ahead  of  his  time  be  proof,  instead 
of  a  symptom,  of  genius,  then  Liszt  was  in  the  first 
rank  of  masters.  The  use  of  significant  motif  is  in 
both  of  his  symphonies.  But  almost  all  the  traits 
that  startled  and  moved  the  world  in  Tschaikowsky's 
symphonies  are  revealed  in  this  far  earlier  music: 
the  tempestuous  rage  of  what  might  be  called  an 
hysterical  school,  and  the  same  poignant  beauty  of 
the  lyric  episodes;  the  sheer  contrast,  half  trick,  half 
natural,  of  fierce  clangor  and  dulcet  harmonies,  all 
painted  with  the  broad  strokes  of  the  orchestral 
palette.  Doubly  striking  it  is  how  Liszt  foreshadowed 
his  later  followers  and  how  he  has  really  overshadowed 
them;  not  one,  down  to  the  most  modern  tone- 
painters,  has  equalled  him  in  depth  and  breadth  of 
design,  in  the  original  power  of  his  tonal  symbols. 
It  seems  that  Liszt  will  endure  as  the  master-spirit  in 
this  reactionary  phase  of  the  symphony. 

Berlioz  is  another  figure  of  a  bold  innovator, 
whose  career  seemed  a  series  of  failures,  yet  whose 
music  will  not  down.  His  art  was  centred  less  upon 
the  old  essentials,  of  characteristic  melody  and  soul- 
stirring  harmonies,  than  upon  the  magic  strokes  of 
new  instrumental  grouping, — a  graphic  rather  than 
a  pure  musical  purpose.  And  so  he  is  the  father  not 
only  of  the  modern  orchestra,  but  of  the  fashion 
of  the  day  that  revels  in  new  sensations  of  startling 
effects,  that  are  spent  in  portraying  the  events  of  a 
story. 

Berlioz  was  the  first  of  a  line  of  virtuosi  of  the 
2  17 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

orchestra,  a  pioneer  in  the  art  of  weaving  significant 
strains, — significant,  that  is,  apart  from  the  music. 
He  was  seized  with  the  passion  of  making  a  pictured 
design  with  his  orchestral  colors.  Music,  it  seems, 
did  not  exist  for  Berlioz  except  for  the  telling  of  a 
story.  His  symphony  is  often  rather  opera.  A 
symphony,  he  forgot,  is  not  a  musical  drama  without 
the  scenery.  This  is  just  what  is  not  a  symphony. 
It  is  not  the  literal  story,  but  the  pure  musical  utter- 
ance. Thus  Berlioz's  "  Romeo  and  Juliet "  symphony 
is  in  its  design  more  the  literal  story  than  is  Shake- 
speare's play.  And  yet  there  is  ever  a  serious  nobility, 
a  heroic  reach  in  the  art  of  Berlioz,  where  he  stands 
almost  alone  among  the  composers  of  his  race.  Here, 
probably,  more  than  in  his  pictured  stories,  lies  the 
secret  of  his  endurance.  He  was,  other  than  his  fol- 
lowers, ever  an  idealist.  And  so,  when  we  are  on  the 
point  of  condemning  him  as  a  scene-painter,  we  sud- 
denly come  upon  a  stretch  of  pure  musical  beauty, 
that  flowed  from  the  unconscious  rapture  of  true 
poet.  As  the  bee  sucks,  so  may  we  cull  the  stray 
beauty  and  the  more  intimate  meaning,  despite  and 
aside  from  this  outer  intent. 


18 


CHAPTER  III 
BEELIOZ.     "  ROMEO  AND  JULIET." 

DRAMATIC   SYMPHONY 

IN  the  sub-title  we  see  the  growing  impulse  towards 
graphic  music.  A  "  dramatic  symphony  "  is  not 
promising.  For,  if  music  is  the  most  subjective  ex- 
pression of  the  arts,  why  should  its  highest  form  be 
used  to  dramatize  a  drama?  Without  the  aid  of 
scene  and  actors,  that  were  needed  by  the  original 
poet,  the  artisan  in  absolute  tones  attempts  his  own 
theatric  rendering.  Clearly  this  symphony  is  one 
of  those  works  of  art  which  within  an  incongruous 
form  (like  certain  ancient  pictures)  affords  episodes 
of  imperishable  beauty. 

Passing  by  the  dramatic  episodes  that  are  strung 
on  the  thread  of  the  story,  we  dwell,  according  to  our 
wont,  on  the  stretches  where  a  pure  musical  utterance 
rises  to  a  lofty  height  of  pathos  or  of  rarest  fantasy. 

In  the  first  scene  of  the  Second  Part  is  the  clear 
intent  of  a  direct  tonal  expression,  and  there  is  a  sus- 
tained thread  of  sincere  sentiment.  The  passion  of 
Romeo  shines  in  the  purity  rather  than  in  the  inten- 
sity of  feeling.  The  scene  has  a  delicate  series  of 
moods,  with  subtle  melodic  touches  and  dramatic 
surprises  of  chord  and  color.  The  whole  seems  a 
reflection  of  Romeo's  humor,  the  personal  (Allegro) 

19 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


theme  being  the  symbol  as  it  roams  throughout  the 
various  phases, — the  sadness  of  solitude,  the  feverish 
thrill  of  the  ball.  Into  the  first  phrase  of  straying 
violins  wanders  the  personal  motive,  sadly  meditative. 


(Choir  of  wood,  with 
sustained  chords  of  strings) 


Sweeter  dreams  now  woo  the  muser,  warming  into 
passion,  pulsing  with  a  more  eager  throb  of  desire, 
in  changed  tone  and  pace.  Suddenly  in  a  new  quar- 
ter amid  a  quick  strum  of  dance  the  main  motive 
hurries  along.  The  gay  sounds  vanish,  ominous 
almost  in  the  distance.  The  sadness  of  the  lover 
now  sings  unrestrained  in  expressive  melody  (of 
oboe),  in  long  swinging  pace,  while  far  away  rumbles 
the  beat  of  festive  dram. 

The  song  rises  in  surging  curves,  but  dies  away 
20 


BERLIOZ.    "ROMEO  AND  JULIET" 

among  the  quick  festal  sounds,  where  the  personal 
motive  is  still  supreme,  chasing  its  own  ardent  antics, 
and  plunges  headlong  into  the  swirl  of  dance. 

II  Penseroso  (in  his  personal  role)  has  glided  into 
a  buoyant,  rollicking  Allegro  with  joyous  answer. 
Anon  the  outer  revel  breaks  in  with  shock  almost  of 
terror.  And  now  in  climax  of  joy,  through  the  festal 
strum  across  the  never-ceasing  thread  of  transformed 
meditation  resound  in  slowest,  broadest  swing  the 


Larghetto  espressivo 


(Ob.  with  fl.  and  cl. 
and  arpeggio  cellos) 

warm  tones  of  the  love-song  in  triumph  of  bliss.* 
As  the  song  dies  away,  the  festal  sounds  fade.  Grim 
meditation  returns  in  double  figure, — the  slower, 
heavier  pace  below.  Its  shadows  are  all  about  as  in 
a  fugue  of  fears,  flitting  still  to  the  tune  of  the  dance 
and  anon  yielding  before  the  gaiety.  But  through  the 
returning  festal  ring  the  fateful  motive  is  still  stray- 
ing in  the  bass.  In  the  concluding  revel  the  hue  of 
meditation  is  not  entirely  banned. 

The  Shakespearian  love-drama  thus  far  seems  to  be 
celebrated  in  the  manner  of  a  French  romance.  After 
all,  the  treatment  remains  scenic  in  the  main;  the 

*  In  unison  of  the  wind.  Berlioz  has  here  noted  in  the 
score  "  Reunion  des  deux  Themes,  du  Larghetto  et  de 
L'AUegro"  the  second  and  first  of  our  cited  phrases. 

21 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


feeling  is  diluted,  as  it  were,  not  intensified  by  the 
music. 

The  stillness  of  night  and  the  shimmering  moon- 
light are  in  the  delicate  harmonies  of  (Allegretto) 
strings.  A  lusty  song  of  departing  revellers  breaks 
upon  the  scene.  The  former  distant  sounds  of  feast 
are  now  near  and  clear  in  actual  words. 


(Muted  strings) 


r— m 


(Pizz.  basses  an  8ve.  lower) 

There  is  an  intimate  charm,  a  true  glamor  of  love- 
idyll  about  the  Adagio.  On  more  eager  pulse  rises 
a  languorous  strain  of  horn  and  cellos.  The  flow 

(Horn  and  cellos  with  murmuring  strings) 


"    1.  I P  I — H c— I 1—1 I 

&*•  J  •  I  Jrtjr=^J  ^  J   J— 


canto  fspress. 


of  its  passionate  phrase  reaches  the  climax  of  pro- 
logue where,  the  type  and  essence  of  the  story,  it 
plays  about  the  lovers'  first  meeting.  As  lower 
strings  hum  the  burden  of  desire,  higher  wood  add 
touches  of  ecstasy,  the  melting  violins  sing  the  woo- 
ing song,  and  all  break  into  an  overwhelming  rapture, 

22 


BERLIOZ.     "ROMEO  AND  JULIET" 

as  though  transfigured  in  the  brightness  of  its  own 
vehemence,  in  midst  of  a  trembling  mystery. 

The  restless  spirit  starts  (allegro  agitato)  in  fear- 
some agitation  on  quick  nervous  throb  of  melody; 
below,  violas  sing  a  soothing  answer ;  there  is  a  clear 
dialogue  of  wistful  lovers. 

Instead  of  the  classic  form  of  several  verses  led 
by  one  dominant  melody  to  varied  paths  and  views, 
here  almost  in  reverse  we  seem  to  fall  from  a  broader 
lyric  mood  to  a  single  note  of  sad  yearning  that 


(Fl.  with  Eng.  horn  an  8ve.  below) 


(Muted  vio- 
lins with 

tained  lower  f)  express. 
strings) 

grows  out  of  the  several  strains.  Upon  such  a  motive 
a  new  melody  sings.  The  delicate  bliss  of  early  love 
is  all  about,  and  in  the  lingering  close  the  timid 
ecstasies  of  wooing  phrase.  But  this  is  a  mere  pre- 
lude to  the  more  highly  stressed,  vehement  song  of 
love  that  follows  on  the  same  yearning  motive.  Here 
is  the  crowning,  summing  phase  of  the  whole  poem, 
without  a  return  to  earlier  melody  save  that,  by  sig- 
nificant touch,  it  ends  in  the  same  expressive  turn 
as  the  former  languorous  song. 

The  first  melody  does  not  reappear,  is  thus  a  kind 
23 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

of  background  of  the  scene.  The  whole  is  a  dramatic 
lyric  that  moves  from  broader  tune  to  a  reiterated 
note  of  sad  desire,  driven  to  a  splendid  height  of 
crowned  bliss.  The  turbulence  of  early  love  is  there ; 
pure  ardor  in  flaming  tongues  of  ecstasy;  the  quick 
turn  of  mood  and  the  note  of  omen  of  the  original 
poem:  the  violence  of  early  love  and  the  fate  that 
hangs  over. 

Berlioz  has  drawn  the  subject  of  his  Scherzo  from 
Mercutio's  speech  in  Scene  4  of  the  First  Act  of 
Shakespeare's  tragedy.  He  has  entitled  it  "  Queen 
Mab,  or  the  Fairy  of  Dreams,"  and  clearly  intends 
to  portray  the  airy  flight  of  Mab  and  her  fairies. 
But  we  must  doubt  whether  this,  the  musical  gem  of 
the  symphony,  has  a  plan  that  is  purely  graphic, — 
rather  does  it  seem  to  soar  beyond  those  concrete 
limits  to  an  utterance  of  the  sense  of  dreams  them- 
selves in  the  spirit  of  Mercutio's  conclusion : 

"...     I  talk  of  dreams 
Which  are  the  children  of  an  idle  brain, 
Begot  of  nothing  but  vain  fantasy; 
Which  is  as  thin  of  substance  as  the  air;  " 

And  we  may  add,  as  elusive  for  the  enchanted  mind 
to  hold  are  these  pranks  and  brilliant  parade  of 
tonal  sprites.  It  stands  one  of  the  masterpieces 
of  program-music,  in  equal  balance  of  pure  beauty 
with  the  graphic  plan. 

Imps  they  are,  these  flitting  figures,  almost  insects 
with  a  personality.  In  pace  there  is  a  division, 

24 


BERLIOZ.     "ROMEO  AND  JULIET" 


where  the  first  dazzling  speed  is  simply  the  fairy 
rhythm  (halted  anon  by  speaking  pauses  or  silences), 
and  the  second,  a  kind  of  idyll  or  romance  in  minia- 
ture. It  is  all  a  drama  of  fairy  actors,  in  a  dream- 
land of  softest  tone.  The  main  figure  leads  its 
troop  on  gossamer  thread  of  varied  journey. 


(Violins) 
Prestissimo 


Almost  frightening  in  the  quickest,  pulsing  motion 
is  the  sudden  stillness,  as  the  weird  poising  of  trem- 
bling sprites.  Best  of  all  is  the  resonant  beauty  of 
the  second  melody  in  enchanting  surprise  of  tone. 


Anon,  as  in  a  varied  dance,  the  skipping,  mincing 
step  is  followed  by  a  gentle  swaying;  or  the  figures 
all  run  together  down  the  line  to  start  the  first  dance 
again,  or  the  divided  groups  have  different  motions, 
or  one  shouts  a  sudden  answer  to  the  other. 

Much  slower  now  is  the  main  song  (in  flute  and 
25 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


English  horn)  beneath  an  ariel  harmony  (of  over- 
tones), while  a  quicker  trip  begins  below  of  the  same 
figure.  And  in  the  midst  is  a  strange  concert  of  low 
dancing  strings  with  highest  tones  of  harp, — strange 
mating  of  flitting  sprites. 

We  are  suddenly  back  in  the  first,  skipping  dance, 
ever  faster  and  brighter  in  dazzling  group  of  lesser 
figures.  And  here  is  the  golden  note  of  fairy-land, — 
the  horn  in  soft  cheery  hunter's  lay,  answered  by  echo- 
ing voices.  For  a  moment  the  call  is  tipped  with 
touch  of  sadness,  then  rings  out  brightly  in  a  new 
quarter.  Beautiful  it  sings  between  the  quick 
phrases,  with  a  certain  shock  of  change,  and  there 
is  the  terror  of  a  sudden  low  rumbling  and  the  thrill 
of  new  murmuring  sounds  with  soft  beat  of  drum 
that  hails  the  gathering  fairies.  There  is  a  sudden 
clarion  burst  of  the  whole  chorus,  with  clash  of  drum 
and  clang  of  brass,  and  sudden  pause,  then  faintest 
echoes  of  higher  voices. 

A  new  figure  now  dances  a  joyous  measure  to  the 
tinkling  of  harp  and  the  sparkling  strokes  of  high 

(Harp  in  higher  8ve.) 

'3=t=& 


(Clarinet  with 
chord  of  horns) 


( Violas) 


26 


BERLIOZ.     "ROMEO  AND  JULIET" 

cymbals  and  long  blown  tone  of  horns.  The  very 
essence  it  is  of  fairy  life.  And  so  the  joy  is  not  un- 
mixed with  just  a  touch  of  awe.  Amidst  the  whole 
tintinnabulation  is  a  soft  resonant  echo  of  horns 
below,  like  an  image  in  a  lake.  The  air  hangs  heavy 
with  dim  romance  until  the  sudden  return  to  first 
fairy  verse  in  sounds  almost  human.  Once  more 
come  the  frightening  pauses. 

The  end  is  in  a  great  crash  of  sweet  sound — a  glad 
awakening  to  day  and  to  reality. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  SYMPHONY  TO  DANTE'S  "DIVINA 
COMMEDIA  " 

FOR  ORCHESTRA  AND  CHORUS  OF  SOPRANOS 
AND  ALTOS 

THE  "  Divina  Commedia  "  may  be  said  in  a  broad 
view  to  belong  to  the  great  design  by  which 
Christian  teaching  was  brought  into  relation  with 
earlier  pagan  lore.  The  subject  commands  all  the 
interest  of  the  epics  of  Virgil  and  of  Milton.  It  must 
be  called  the  greatest  Christian  poem  of  all  times,  and 
the  breadth  of  its  appeal  and  of  its  art  specially 
attest  the  age  in  which  it  was  written,  when  classic 
pagan  poetry  broke  upon  the  world  like  a  great 
treasure-trove. 

The  subject  was  an  ideal  one  in  Dante's  time, — 
a  theme  convincing  and  contenting  to  all  the  world, 
and,  besides,  akin  to  the  essence  of  pagan  poetry. 
The  poet  was  needed  to  celebrate  all  the  phases  of  its 
meaning  and  beauty.  This  is  true  of  all  flashes  of 
evolutionary  truth.  As  in  the  ancient  epics,  an  idea 
once  real  to  the  world  may  be  enshrined  in  a  design 
of  immortal  art. 

To-day  we  are  perhaps  in  too  agnostic  a  state  to 
be  absorbed  by  such  a  contemplation.  The  subject 
in  a  narrower  sense  is  true  at  most  to  those  who 
will  to  cherish  the  solace  of  a  salvation,  which  they 

28 


DANTE'S  "DIVINA  COMMEDIA" 

have  .not  fully  apprehended.  And  so  the  Liszt  sym- 
phony of  the  nineteenth  century  is  not  a  complete 
reflection  of  the  Dante  poem  of  the  fourteenth.  It 
becomes  for  the  devout  believer  almost  a  kind  of 
church-liturgy, — a  Mass  by  the  Abbe  Liszt. 

Rare  qualities  there  undoubtedly  are  in  the  music : 
a  reality  of  passion;  a  certain  simplicity  of  plan; 
the  sensuous  beauty  of  melodic  and  harmonic  touches. 
But  a  greatness  in  the  whole  musical  expression  that 
may  approach  the  grandeur  of  the  poem,  could  only 
come  in  a  suggestion  of  symbolic  truth ;  and  here  the 
composer  seems  to  fail  by  a  too  close  clinging  to 
ecclesiastic  ritual.  Yet  in  the  agony  of  remorse,  ris- 
ing from  hopeless  woe  to  a  chastened  worship  of  the 
light,  is  a  strain  of  inner  truth  that  will  leave  the 
work  for  a  long  time  a  hold  on  human  interest. 

Novel  is  the  writing  of  words  in  the  score,  as  if 
they  are  to  be  sung  by  the  instruments, — all  sheer 
aside  from  the  original  purpose  of  the  form.  Page 
after  page  has  its  precise  text;  we  hear  the  shrieks 
of  the  damned,  the  dread  inscription  of  the  infernal 
portals;  the  sad  lament  of  lovers;  the  final  song  of 
praise  of  the  redeemed.  A  kind  of  picture-book 
music  has  our  symphony  become.  The  leit-motif  has 
crept  into  the  high  form  of  absolute  tones  to  make 
it  as  definite  and  dramatic  as  any  opera. 

I.     INFERNO 

The  legend  of  the  portal  is  proclaimed  at  the  outset 
in  a  rising  phrase  (of  the  low  brass  and  strings) 

29 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

(Doubled  in  two  lower  8ves.) 
Lento 


ff  (3  trombones  and  tuba: 
violas,  cellos  and  brass) 

Per  me  si  va  neU-a  cit-ta  do-l&nte; 
Per  me  si  va  nell'  eterno  dolorej 

and  in  still  higher  chant — 

Per  me  si  va  tra  la  perduta  gente, 

Then,  in  antiphonal  blast  of  horns  and  trumpets 
sounds  the  fatal  doom  in  grim  monotone  (in  de- 
scending harmony  of  trembling  strings) : 

(Chant  in  octaves  of  trumpets  and  horns) 


(Brass,  wood  and  tremolo  strings) 

Lasciate  ogni  speranza  mi  ch'  entratel  * 

A  tumult  on  a  sigh  (from  the  first  phrase)  rises 
again  and  again  in  gusts.  In  a  violent  paroxysm 
we  hear  the  doom  of  the  monotone  in  lowest  horns. 

*  "  Through  me  the  way  is  to  the  city  dolent; 
Through  me  the  way  is  to  eternal  dole; 
Through  me  the  way  among  the  people  lost. 
All  hope  abandon,  ye  who  enter  in!  " 

— From  Longfellow's  translation. 

30 


DANTE'S  "DIVINA  COMMEDIA" 

The  fateful  phrases  are  ringing  about,  while  pervad- 
ing all  is  the  hope-destroying  blast  of  the  brass.  But 
the  storm-centre  is  the  sighing  motive  which  now 
enters  on  a  quicker  spur  of  passionate  stride  (Allegro 
frenetico,  quasi  doppio  movimento).  In  its  winding 

Alia  breve 

Allegro  frenetico  (quasi  doppio  movimento) 
(Theme  in  violins  and  cellos) 


(Woodwind  and  violas) 
sequences  it  sings  a  new  song  in  more  regular  pace. 
The  tempest  grows  wilder  and  more  masterful,  still 
following  the  lines  of  the  song,  rising  to  towering 
height.  And  now  in  the  strains,  slow  and  faster, 
sounds  the  sigh  above  and  below,  all  in  a  madrigal 
of  woe.  The  whole  is  surmounted  by  a  big  descend- 
ing phrase,  articulate  almost  in  its  grim  dogma,  as 
it  runs  into  the  line  of  the  first  legend  in  full  tumult 
of  gloom.  It  is  followed  by  the  doom  slowly  pro- 
claimed in  thundering  tones  of  the  brass,  in  midst 
of  a  tempest  of  surging  harmonies.  Only  it  is  all 
more  fully  and  poignantly  stressed  than  before,  with 
long,  resonant  echoes  of  the  stentorian  tones  of  lowest 
brass. 

Suddenly   we   are   in   the   dulcet   mood    (Quasi 
Andante,  ma  sempre  un  poco  mosso)  'mid  light  wav- 
ing strings  and  rich  swirling  harp,  and  soothing  tones 
31 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


of  flutes  and  muted  horns.  Then,  as  all  other  voices 
are  hushed,  the  clarinet  sings  a  strain  that  ends 
in  lowest  notes  of  expressive  grief  (Redt.,  expres- 
sivo  dolcnte)  —  where  we  can  almost  hear  the  words. 
It  is  answered  by  a  sweet  plaint  of  other  wood,  in 


Quasi  Andante,  ma  sempre  un  poco  mosno 


(Clarinets  and  bassoons) 

questioning  accents,  followed  by  the  returning  waves 
of  strings  and  harp,  and  another  phrase  of  the 
lament;  and  now  to  the  pulsing  chords  of  the  harp 
the  mellow  English  horn  does  sing  (at  least  in  the 
score)  the  words, — the  central  text  of  all : 

Poco  agitato  (English  horn,  with  arpeggic  flow  of  harp) 
Espreas.  molto 


Nes-  sun  mag-gior     do  -  lo  -  re 


che  ri  -  cor- 


5 


dar    -     si   del 


-  po     fe   -   li 


*  "  There  is  no  greater  sorrow  than  to  be  mindful  of  the 
happy  time  in  misery." — From  Longfellow's  translation. 

32 


DANTE'S  "DIVINA  COMMEDIA" 

Other  voices  join  the  leader.  As  the  lower  reed 
start  the  refrain,  the  higher  enter  in  pursuit,  and  then 
the  two  groups  sing  a  melodic  chase.  But  the  whole 
phrase  is  a  mere  foil  to  the  pure  melody  of  the 
former  plaint  that  now  returns  in  lower  strings. 
And  all  so  far  is  as  a  herald  to  the  passage  of  intimate 
sentiment  (Andante  amoroso)  that  lies  a  lyric  gem 
in  the  heart  of  the  symphony.  The  melting  strain 
is  stressed  in  tenderness  by  the  languor  of  harmonies, 
the  delicate  design  of  elusive  rhythm  and  the  appeal- 
ing whisper  of  harp  and  two  violins, — tipped  by 
the  touch  of  mellow  wood. 

Andante  amoroso.    (Tempo  rubato) 

dolce  con  intimo  sentimento^  -^ 


(Melody  in  first  violins;  arpeggios  of  harp  and  violas; 
lower  woodwind  and  strings) 

With  the  rising  passion,  as  the  refrain  spreads  in 
wider  sequences,  the  choirs  of  wood  and  strings  are 
drawn  into  the  song,  one  group  answering  the  other 
in  a  true  love  duet. 

The  last  cadence  falls  into  the  old  sigh  as  the  dread 

oracle  sounds  once  more  the  knell  of  hope.    Swirling 

strings  bring  us  to  a  new  scene  of  the  world  of  shades. 

In  the  furious,  frenetic  pace  of  yore  (Tempo  primo, 

33 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Allegro,  alia  breve)  there  is  a  new  sullen  note,  a  dull 
martial  trip  of  drums  with  demonic  growls  (in  the 
lowest  wood).  The  sigh  is  there,  but  perverted  in 
humor.  A  chorus  of  blasphemous  mockery  is  stressed 
by  strident  accents  of  lower  wood  and  strings.* 

Gradually  we  fall  into  the  former  frenzied  song, 
amid  the  demon  cacchinations,  until  we  have  plunged 
back  into  the  nightmare  of  groans.  Instead  of  the 
big  descending  phrase  we  sink  into  lower  depths  of 
gloom,  wilder  than  ever,  on  the  first  tripping  motive. 
As  the  sighing  strain  resounds  below  in  the  midst  of 
a  chorus  of  demon  shrieks,  there  enters  the  chant  of 
inexorable  fate.  Mockery  yields  to  a  tinge  of  pathos, 
a  sense  almost  of  majestic  resignation,  an  apotheosis 
of  grief. 

II.    PURGATORIO 

A  state  of  tranquillity,  almost  of  bliss,  is  in  the 
opening  primal  harmonies  (of  harp  and  strings  and 

Andante  con  moto  quasi  Allegretto,     Tranquillo  assai 
(Oboe  molto  eapressivo) 


Sempre  piano  e  legato 
(Full  arpeggio  harp  and  muted  strings) 

*  We  are  again  assisted  by  the  interpreting  words  in  the 
score. 

34 


DANTE'S  "DIVINA  COMMEDIA" 

soft  horns).  Indeed,  what  else  could  be  the  mood  of 
relief  from  the  horrors  of  hell?  And  lo!  the  reed 
strikes  a  pure  limpid  song  echoed  in  turn  by  other 
voices,  beneath  a  rich  spray  of  heavenly  harmonies. 
This  all  recurs  in  higher  shift  of  tone.  A  wistful 
phrase  (piu  lento,  in  low  strings)  seems  to  breathe 


Un  poco  meno  mosso 


( English  horn,  clarinets, 
bassoons,  French  horn) 

a  spoken  sob.  Then,  as  in  voices  of  a  hymn,  chants 
a  more  formal  liturgy  of  plaint  where  the  phrase  is 
almost  lost  in  the  lowest  voice.  It  is  all  but  articu- 
late, with  a  sense  of  the  old  sigh ;  but  it  is  in  a  calmer 
spirit,  though  anon  bursting  with  passionate  grief 
(lagrimoso). 

Lamentoso  (In  fugue  of  muted  strings) 


And  now  in  the  same  vein,  of  the  same  fibre,  a 
fugue  begins  of  lament,  first  in  muted  strings. 

It  is  the  line  of  sad  expressive  recitative  that 
heralded  the  plaint  and  the  love-scene.  There  is  here 
the  full  charm  of  fugue :  a  rhythmic  quality  of  single 

35 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


theme,  the  choir  of  concerted  dirge  in  independent 
and  interdependent  paths,  and  with  every  note  of 
integral  melody.  There  is  the  beauty  of  pure  tonal 
architecture  blended  with  the  personal  significance  of 
the  human  (and  divine)  tragedy. 

The  fugue  begins  in  muted  strings,  like  plaintive 
human  voices,  though  wood  and  brass  here  and  there 
light  up  the  phrases.  Now  the  full  bass  of  horns  and 
wood  strikes  the  descending  course  of  theme,  while 
higher  strings  and  wood  soar  in  rising  stress  of 
(sighing)  grief. 

(In  double  higher  SvesO 


With  lower  8ves.    U £" 
(Strings,  with  enforcing  and  answering  wind) 

A  hymnal  verse  of  the  theme  enters  in  the  wood 
answered  by  impetuous  strings  on  a  coursing  phrase. 
The  antiphonal  song  rises  with  eager  stress  of 
themal  attack.  A  quieter  elegy  leads  to  another  burst, 
the  motive  above,  the  insistent  sigh  below.  The 
climax  of  fugue  returns  to  the  heroic  main  plaint 
below,  with  sighing  answers  above,  all  the  voices  of 
wood  and  brass  enforcing  the  strings. 

Then  the  fugue  turns  to  a  transfigured  phase;  the 
theme  rings  triumphant  retorts  in  golden  horns  and 

36 


DANTE'S  "DIVINA  COMMEDIA" 

in  a  masterful  unison  of  the  wood;  the  wild  answer 
runs  joyfully  in  lower  strings,  while  the  higher  are 
strumming  like  celestial  harps.  The  whole  is  trans- 
formed to  a  big  song  of  praise  ever  in  higher  har- 
monies. The  theme  flows  on  in  ever  varying  thread, 
amidst  the  acclaiming  tumult. 

But  the  heavenly  heights  are  not  reached  by  a 
single  leap.  Once  more  we  sink  to  sombre  depths 
not  of  the  old  rejection,  but  of  a  chastened,  wistful 
wonderment.  The  former  plaintive  chant  returns,  in 
slower,  contained  pace,  broken  by  phrases  of  mourn- 
ing recitative,  with  the  old  sigh.  And  a  former  brief 
strain  of  simple  aspiration  is  supported  by  angelic 
harps.  In  gentle  ascent  we  are  wafted  to  the  acclaim 
of  heavenly  (treble)  voices  in  the  Magnificat.  A 
wonderful  utterance,  throughout  the  scene  of  Purga- 
tory, there  is  of  a  chastened,  almost  spiritual  grief 
for  the  sin  that  cannot  be  undone,  though  it  is  not 
past  pardon. 

The  bold  design  of  the  final  Praise  of  the  Almighty 
was  evidently  conceived  in  the  main  as  a  service.  An 
actual  depiction,  or  a  direct  expression  (such  as  is 
attempted  in  the  prologue  of  Boito's  Mefistofele)  was 
thereby  avoided.  The  Holy  of  Holies  is  screened 
from  view  by  a  priestly  ceremony, — by  the  mask  of 
conventional  religion.  Else  we  must  take  the  com- 
poser's personal  conception  of  such  a  climax  as  that 
of  an  orthodox  Churchman.  And  then  the  whole 
work,  with  all  its  pathos  and  humanity,  falls  to  the 
level  of  liturgy. 

37 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  words  of  invisible  angel-chorus  are  those  of 
the  blessed  maid  trusting  in  God  her  savior,  on  a 
theme  for  which  we  are  prepared  by  preluding  choirs 
of  harps,  wood  and  strings.  It  is  sung  on  an 
ancient  Church  tone  that  in  its  height  approaches  the 
mode  of  secular  song.  With  all  the  power  of  broad 
rhythm,  and  fulness  of  harmony  and  volume,  the 
feeling  is  of  conventional  worship.  With  all  the 
purity  of  shimmering  harmonies  the  form  is  ecclesi- 
astical in  its  main  lines  and  depends  upon  liturgic 
symbols  for  its  effect  and  upon  the  faith  of  the  lis- 
tener for  its  appeal. 

At  the  end  of  the  hymn,  on  the  entering  Hosanna! 
and  Hallelujah!  we  catch  the  sacred  symbol  (of 
seven  tones)  in  the  path  of  the  two  vocal  parts, 
the  lower  descending,  the  higher  ascending  as  on 
heavenly  scale.  In  the  second,  optional  ending  the 
figure  is  completed,  as  the  bass  descends  through  the 
seven  whole  tones  and  the  treble  (of  voices  and  in- 
struments) rises  as  before  to  end  in  overpowering 
Hallelujah!  The  style  is  close  knit  with  the  earlier 
music.  A  pervading  motive  is  the  former  brief  phrase 
of  aspiration;  upon  it  the  angelic  groups  seem  to 
wing  their  flight  between  verses  of  praise.  By  a 
wonderful  touch  the  sigh,  that  appeared  inverted  in 
the  plaintive  chant  of  the  Purgatorio,  is  finally  glori- 
fied as  the  motive  of  the  bass  to  the  words  of 
exultation. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

LISZT  was  clearly  a  follower  of  Berlioz  in  the 
abandon  to  a  pictorial  aim,  in  the  revolt  from 
pure  musical  form,  and  in  the  mastery  of  orchestral 
color.  If  we  feel  in  almost  all  his  works  a  charming 
translation  of  story  in  the  tones,  we  also  miss  the 
higher  empyrsean  of  pure  fancy,  unlimited  by  halting 
labels.  It  is  a  descent  into  pleasant,  rich  pastures 
from  the  cosmic  view  of  the  lofty  mountain.  Yet  it 
must  be  yielded  that  Liszt's  program-music  was  of 
the  higher  kind  that  dwells  in  symbols  rather  than 
in  concrete  details.  It  was  a  graphic  plan  of  symbol- 
ization  that  led  Liszt  to  choose  the  subjects  of  his 
symphonic  poems  (such  as  the  "  Preludes  "  and  the 
"  Ideals  ")  and  to  prefer  the  poetic  scheme  of  Hugo's 
"  Mazeppa  "  to  the  finer  verse  of  a  Byron.  Though 
not  without  literal  touches,  Liszt  perceived  that  his 
subjects  must  have  a  symbolic  quality. 

Nevertheless  this  pictorial  style  led  to  a  revolution 
in  the  very  nature  of  musical  creation  and  to  a  new 
form  which  was  seemingly  intended  to  usurp  the 
place  of  the  symphony.  It  is  clear  that  the  sym- 
phonic poem  is  in  very  essence  opposed  to  the  sym- 
phony. The  genius  of  the  symphony  lies  in  the  over- 
whelming breadth  and  intensity  of  its  expression 

39 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

without  the  aid  of  words.  Vainly  decried  by  a  later 
age  of  shallower  perception,  it  achieved  this  Pro- 
methean stroke  by  the  very  magic  of  the  design.  At 
one  bound  thus  arose  in  the  youngest  art  a  form 
higher  than  any  other  of  human  device, — higher  than 
the  epic,  the  drama,  or  the  cathedral. 

Bowing  to  an  impatient  demand  for  verbal  mean- 
ing, Liszt  invented  the  Symphonic  Poem,  in  which 
the  classic  cogency  yielded  to  the  loose  thread  of  a 
musical  sketch  in  one  movement,  slavishly  following 
the  sequence  of  some  literary  subject.  He  abandoned 
sheer  tonal  fancy,  surrendering  the  magic  potency  of 
pure  music,  fully  expressive  within  its  own  design 
far  beyond  the  literal  scheme.* 

The  symphonic  poems  of  Liszt,  in  so  far  as  his  in- 
tent was  in  destructive  reaction  to  the  classic  process, 
were  precisely  in  line  with  the  drama  of  Wagner.  The 
common  revolt  completely  failed.  The  higher,  the 
real  music  is  ever  of  that  pure  tonal  design  where 
the  fancy  is  not  leashed  to  some  external  scheme. 
Liszt  himself  grew  to  perceive  the  inadequacy  of  the 
new  device  when  he  returned  to  the  symphony  for  his 
greatest  orchestral  expression,  though  even  here  he 
never  escaped  from  the  thrall  of  a  literal  subject. 

And  strangely,  in  point  of  actual  music,  we  cannot 
fail  to  find  an  emptier,  a  more  grandiose  manner  in 
all  these  symphonic  poems  than  in  the  two  sym- 

*  Mendelssohn  with  perfect  insight  once  declared, — 
"  Notes  have  as  definite  a  meaning  as  words,  perhaps  even  a 
more  definite  one." 

40 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

phonies.  It  seems  as  if  an  unconscious  sense  of  the 
greater  nobility  of  the  classic  medium  drove  Liszt 
to  a  far  higher  inspiration  in  his  melodic  themes. 

Yet  we  cannot  deny  the  brilliant,  dazzling  strokes, 
and  the  luscious  harmonies.  It  was  all  a  new  man- 
ner, and  alone  the  novelty  is  welcome,  not  to  speak  of 
the  broad  sweep  of  facile  melody,  and  the  sparkling 
thrills. 

LE8  PRELUDES 

This  work  has  a  preface  by  the  composer,  who  re- 
fers in  a  footnote  to  the  "  Meditations  poetiques  "  of 
Lamartine. 

"  What  else  is  our  life  than  a  series  of  preludes  to 
that  unknown  song  of  which  the  first  solemn  note  is 
struck  by  death  ?  Love  is  the  morning  glow  of  every 
heart;  but  in  what  human  career  have  not  the  first 
ecstasies  of  bliss  been  broken  by  the  storm,  whose 
cruel  breath  destroys  fond  illusions,  and  blasts  the 
sacred  shrine  with  the  bolt  of  lightning.  And  what 
soul,  sorely  wounded,  does  not,  emerging  from  the 
tempest,  seek  to  indulge  its  memories  in  the  calm  of 
country  life  ?  Nevertheless,  man  will  not  resign  him- 
self for  long  to  the  soothing  charm  of  quiet  nature, 
and  when  the  trumpet  sounds  the  signal  of  alarm,  he 
runs  to  the  perilous  post,  whatever  be  the  cause  that 
calls  him  to  the  ranks  of  war, — that  he  may  find  in 
combat  the  full  consciousness  of  himself  and  the  com- 
mand of  all  his  powers." 

How  far  is  the  music  literally  graphic?  We  can- 
41 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

not  look  for  the  "  unknown  song  "  in  definite  sounds. 
That  would  defeat,  not  describe,  its  character.  But 
the  first  solemn  notes,  are  not  these  the  solemn  rising 
phrase  that  reappears  in  varying  rhythm  and  pace 
all  about  the  beginning  and,  indeed,  the  whole  course 


Andante 


(Strings,  doubled  in 
two  lower  8ves.) 

of  the  music.  Just  these  three  notes  abound  in  the 
mystic  first  "  prelude,"  and  they  are  the  core  of  the 
great  swinging  tune  of  the  Andante  maestoso,  the 
beginning  and  main  pulse  of  the  unknown  song. 

Andante  maestoso 


(Basses  of  strings,  wood  and  brass,  doubled  below;  arpeggio 
harmonies  in  upper  strings;  sustained  higher  wood) 

Now   (dolce  cantando)    is  a  softer  guise  of  the 
phrase.    For  death  and  birth,  the  two  portals,  are  like 

j     (Strings,  with  arpeggio  violins) 


(Pizz.  basses) 


42 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

elements.  Even  here  the  former  separate  motive 
sounds,  and  so  in  the  further  turn  of  the  song  (ex- 
pressivo  dolente]  on  new  thread. 

The  melody  that  sings  (expressive  ma  tranquillo) 
may  well  stand  for  "  love,  the  glow  of  dawn  in  every 
heart."  Before  the  storm,  both  great  motives  (of  love 
and  death)  sound  together  very  beautifully,  as  in 


espress.  ma  tranquillo 


(Horns  and  lower  strings,  with 
arpeggio  harp  and  violins) 


Tennyson's  poem.  The  storm  that  blasts  the  ro- 
mance begins  with  the  same  fateful  phrase.  It  is 
all  about,  even  inverted,  and  at  the  crisis  it  sings 
with  the  fervor  of  full-blown  song.  At  the  lull  the 
soft  guise  reappears,  faintly,  like  a  sweet  memory. 

The  Allegretto  pastorale  is  clear  from  the  preface. 
After  we  are  lulled,  soothed,  caressed  and  all  but 
entranced  by  these  new  impersonal  sounds,  then,  as 
if  the  sovereign  for  whom  all  else  were  preparing, 
the  song  of  love  seeks  its  recapitulated  verse.  Indeed 
here  is  the  real  full  song.  Is  it  that  in  the  memory 
lies  the  reality,  or  at  least  the  realization  ? 

43 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Out  of  the  dream  of  love  rouses  the  sudden  alarm 
of  brass  (Allegro  marziale  animato),  with  a  new  war- 
tune  fashioned  of  the  former  soft  disguised  motive. 
The  air  of  fate  still  hangs  heavy  over  all.  In  spirited 
retorts  the  martial  madrigal  proceeds,  but  it  is  not 
all  mere  war  and  courage.  Through  the  clash  of 
strife  break  in  the  former  songs,  the  love-theme  in 
triumph  and  the  first  expressive  strain  in  tempestuous 
joy.  Last  of  all  the  fateful  original  motto  rings  once 
more  in  serene,  contained  majesty. 

On  the  whole,  even  with  so  well-defined  a  program, 
and  with  a  full  play  of  memory,  we  cannot  be  quite 
sure  of  a  fixed  association  of  the  motive.  It  is 
better  to  view  the  melodic  episodes  as  subjective 
phases,  arising  from  the  tenor  of  the  poem. 

TA880 

Liszt's  "  Tasso  "  is  probably  the  earliest  celebration, 
in  pure  tonal  form,  of  the  plot  of  man's  suffering  and 
redemption,  that  has  been  so  much  followed  that  it 
may  be  called  the  type  of  the  modern  symphony.* 
In  this  direct  influence  the  "  Tasso "  poem  has 
been  the  most  striking  of  all  of  Liszt's  creations. 

*  We  may  mention  such  other  works  of  Liszt  as  "  Ma- 
zeppa  "  and  the  "  Faust "  Symphony ;  the  third  symphony 
of  Saint-Satins ;  Strauss'  tone  poem  "  Death  and  Trans- 
figuration " ;  Volbach's  symphony,  besides  other  symphonies 
such  as  a  work  by  Carl  Pohlig.  We  may  count  here,  too, 
the  Heldenlied  by  DvOrfik,  and  Strauss'  Heldenleben  (see 

Vol.  II). 

i 

44 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

The  following  preface  of  the  composer  accompanies 
the  score: 

"In  the  year  1849  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of 
Goethe's  birth  was  celebrated  throughout  Germany;  the 
theatre  in  Weimar,  where  we  were  at  the  time,  marked  the 
28th  of  August  by  a  performance  of  '  Tasso.' 

"The  tragic  fate  of  the  unfortunate  bard  served  as  a 
text  for  the  two  greatest  poets  produced  by  Germany  and 
England  in  the  last  century:  Goethe  and  Byron.  Upon 
Goethe  was  bestowed  the  most  brilliant  of  mortal  careers; 
while  Byron's  advantages  of  birth  and  of  fortune  were 
balanced  by  keenest  suffering.  We  must  confess  that  when 
bidden,  in  1849,  to  write  an  overture  for  Goethe's  drama, 
we  were  more  immediately  inspired  by  Byron's  reverential 
pity  for  the  shades  of  the  great  man,  which  he  invoked, 
than  by  the  work  of  the  German  poet.  Nevertheless  Byron, 
in  his  picture  of  Tasso  in  prison,  was  unable  to  add  to  the 
remembrance  of  his  poignant  grief,  so  nobly  and  eloquently 
uttered  in  his  '  Lament,'  the  thought  of  the  '  Triumph ' 
that  a  tardy  justice  gave  to  the  chivalrous  author  of  '  Jeru- 
salem Delivered.'  We  have  sought  to  mark  this  dual  idea 
in  the  very  title  of  our  work,  and  we  should  be  glad  to 
have  succeeded  in  pointing  this  great  contrast, — the  genius 
who  was  misjudged  during  his  life,  surrounded,  after  death, 
with  a  halo  that  destroyed  his  enemies.  Tasso  loved  and 
suffered  at  Ferrara;  he  was  avenged  at  Home;  his  glory 
still  lives  in  the  folk-songs  of  Venice.  These  three  elements 
are  inseparable  from  his  immortal  memory.  To  represent 
them  in  music,  we  first  called  up  his  august  spirit  as  he 
still  haunts  the  waters  of  Venice.  Then  we  beheld  his  proud 
and  melancholy  figure  as  he  passed  through  the  festivals 
of  Ferrara  where  he  had  produced  his  master-works. 
Finally  we  followed  him  to  Rome,  the  eternal  city,  that 
offered  him  the  crown  and  glorified  in  him  the  martyr  and 
the  poet. 

45 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

"  Lamento  e  Trionfo:  Such  are  the  opposite  poles  of  the 
destiny  of  poets,  of  whom  it  has  been  justly  said  that  if 
their  lives  are  sometimes  burdened  with  a  curse,  a  blessing 
is  never  wanting  over  their  grave.  For  the  sake  not  merely 
of  authority,  but  the  distinction  of  historical  truth,  we 
put  our  idea  into  realistic  form  in  taking  for  the  theme  of 
our  musical  poem  the  motive  with  which  we  have  heard 
the  gondoliers  of  Venice  sing  over  the  waters  the  lines 
of  Tasso,  and  utter  them  three  centuries  after  the  poet: 

"  '  Canto  1'armi  pietose  e'l  Capitano 

Che'l   gran   Sepolcro   liberd   di   Christo!  ' 

"The  motive  is  in  itself  plaintive;  it  has  a  sustained 
sigh,  a  monotone  of  grief.  But  the  gondoliers  give  it  a 
special  quality  by  prolonging  certain  tones — as  when  dis- 
tant rays  of  brilliant  light  are  reflected  on  the  waves. 
This  song  had  deeply  impressed  us  long  ago.  It  was  im- 
possible to  treat  of  Tasso  without  taking,  as  it  were,  as 
text  for  our  thoughts,  this  homage  rendered  by  the  nation 
to  the  genius  whose  love  and  loyalty  were  ill  merited  by  the 
court  of  Ferrara.  The  Venetian  melody  breathes  so  sharp 
a  melancholy,  such  hopeless  sadness,  that  it  suffices  in  itself 
to  reveal  the  secret  of  Tasso's  grief.  It  lent  itself,  like  the 
poet's  imagination,  to  the  world's  brilliant  illusions,  to  the 
smooth  and  false  coquetry  of  those  smiles  that  brought  the 
dreadful  catastrophe  in  their  train,  for  which  there  seemed 
to  be  no  compensation  in  this  world.  And  yet  upon  the 
Capitol  the  poet  was  clothed  with  a  mantle  of  purer  and 
more  brilliant  purple  than  that  of  Alphonse." 

With  the  help  of  the  composer's  plot,  the  intent 
of  the  music  becomes  clear,  to  the  dot  almost  of  the 
note.  The  whole  poem  is  an  exposition  of  the  one 
sovereign  melody,  where  we  may  feel  a  kindred  trait 
of  Hungarian  song,  above  all  in  the  cadences,  that 

46 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 


must  have  stirred  Liszt's  patriot  heart.  Nay, — 
beginning  as  it  does  with  melancholy  stress  of  the 
phrase  of  cadence  and  the  straying  into  full  rhyth- 
mitic  exultation,  it  seems  (in  strange  guise)  another 


Adagio  mesto 


J.J1J 


(Harp    dim. 
and  horns) 


-a 


a^U 


"(Harp  and 
horns) 


(Harp  and 
horns) 


of  Liszt's  Hungarian  rhapsodies, — that  were,  perhaps, 
the  greatest  of  all  he  achieved,  where  his  unpremedi- 
tated frenzy  revelled  in  purest  folk-rhythm  and 
tune.  The  natural  division  of  the  Hungarian  dance, 
with  the  sad  Lossu  and  the  glad  Friss,  is  here  clear  in 

47 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

order  and  recurrence.  The  Magyar  seems  to  the 
manner  born  in  both  parts  of  the  melody.* 

In  the  accents  of  the  motive  of  cadence  (Lento)  we 
feel  the  secret  grief  of  the  hero,  that  turns  Allegro 
strepitoso,  in  quicker  pace  to  fierce  revolt. 

In  full  tragic  majesty  the  noble  theme  enters,  in 
panoply  of  woe.  In  the  further  flow,  as  in  the  be- 
ginning, is  a  brief  chromatic  strain  and  a  sigh  of 
descending  tone  that  do  not  lie  in  the  obvious  song, 
that  are  drawn  by  the  subjective  poet  from  the  latent 
fibre.  Here  is  the  modern  Liszt,  of  rapture  and  an- 
guish, in  manner  and  in  mood  that  proved  so  potent 
a  model  with  a  later  generation,  f 

The  verse  ends  in  a  prolonged  threnody,  then  turns 
to  a  firm,  serenely  grave  burst  of  the  song  in  major, 
Meno  Adagio,  with  just  a  hint  of  martial  grandeur. 
For  once,  or  the  nonce,  we  seem  to  see  the  hero-poet 
acclaimed.  In  a  middle  episode  the  motive  of  the 
cadence  sings  expressively  with  delicate  harmonies, 
rising  to  full-blown  exaltation.  We  may  see  here  an 
actual  brief  celebration,  such  as  Tasso  did  receive 
on  entering  Ferrara. 

And  here  is  a  sudden  fanciful  turn.  A  festive 
dance  strikes  a  tuneful  trip, — a  menuet  it  surely  is, 
with  all  the  ancient  festal  charm,  vibrant  with  tune 
and  spring,  though  still  we  do  not  escape  the  source 

*  A  common  Oriental  element  in  Hungarian  and  Venetian 
music  has  been  observed.  See  Kretschmar's  note  to  Liszt's 
"Tasso"  (Breitkopf  &  Haertel). 

f  See  note  in  the  final  chapter  of  Volume  II. 
48 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

of  the  first  pervading  theme.  Out  of  the  midst  of 
the  dance  sings  slyly  an  enchanting  phrase,  much 
like  a  secret  love-romance.  Now  to  the  light  con- 
tinuing dance  is  joined  a  strange  companion, — the 
heroic  melody  in  its  earlier  majestic  pace.  Is  it  the 
poet  in  serious  meditation  at  the  feast  apart  from 
the  joyous  abandon,  or  do  we  see  him  laurel-crowned, 
a  centre  of  the  festival,  while  the  gay  dancers  flit 
about  him  in  homage? 

More  and  more  brilliant  grows  the  scene,  though 
ever  with  the  dominant  grave  figure.  With  sudden 
stroke  as  of  fatal  blast  returns  the  earlier  fierce  burst 
of  revolt,  rising  to  agitation  of  the  former  lament, 
blending  both  moods  and  motives,  and  ending  with 
a  broader  stress  of  the  first  tragic  motto. 

Now,  Allegro  con  brio,  with  herald  calls  of  the 
brass  and  fanfare  of  running  strings  (drawn  from 
the  personal  theme),  in  bright  major  the  whole  song 
bursts  forth  in  brilliant  gladness.  At  the  height  the 
exaltation  finds  vent  in  a  peal  of  simple  melody. 
The  "triumph"  follows  in  broadest,  royal  pace  of 
the  main  song  in  the  wind,  while  the  strings  are 
madly  coursing  and  the  basses  reiterate  the  trans- 
formed motive  of  the  cadence.  The  end  is  a  revel  of 
jubilation. 

MAZEPPA 

The  Mazeppa  music  is  based  upon  Victor  Hugo's 
poem,  in  turn  founded  upon  Byron's  verse,  with  an 
added  stirring  touch  of  allegory. 
4  49 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  verses  of  Hugo  first  tell  how  the  victim  is 
tied  to  the  fiery  steed,  how — 

"  He  turns  in  the  toils  like  a  serpent  in  madness, 
And     .     .     .     his  tormentors  have  feasted  in  gladness 
Upon    his    despair. 

They  fly. — Empty  space  is  behind  and  before  them 

The  horse,  neither  bridle  nor  bit  on  him  feeling, 
Flies  ever;  red  drops  o'er  the  victim  are  stealing: 

His  whole  body  bleeds. 

Alas !  to  the  wild  horses  foaming  and  champing 
That  followed  with  mane  erect,  neighing  and  stamping, 

A  crow-flight  succeeds. 

The  raven,  the  horn'd  owl  with  eyes  round  and  hollow, 
The  osprey  and  eagle  from  battle-field  follow, 

Though  daylight  alarm. 

Then  after  three  days  of  this  course  wild  and  frantic, 
Through  rivers  of  ice,  plains  and  forests  gigantic, 
The  horse  sinks  and  dies; 

Yet  mark!    That  poor  sufferer,  gasping  and  moaning, 
To-morrow  the  Cossacks  of  Ukraine  atoning, 
Will  hail  as  their  King; 

To  royal  Mazeppa  the  hordes  Asiatic 
Will  show  the«r  devotion  in  fervor  ecstatic, 
And  low  to  earth  bow." 

In  his  splendid  epilogue  the  poet  likens  the  hero 
to  the  mortal  on  whom  the  god  has  set  his  mark. 
He  sees  himself  bound  living  to  the  fatal  course  of 
genius,  the  fiery  steed. 

50 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

"  Away  from  the  world — from  all  real  existence 
He  ia  borne  upwards,  despite  his  resistance 

On  feet  of  steel. 

He  is  taken  o'er  deserts,  o'er  mountains  in  legions, 
Grey-hoary,  thro9  oceans,  and  into  the  regions 

Far  over  the  clouds; 

A  thousand  base  spirits  his  progress  unshaken 
Arouses,  press  round  him  and  stare  as  they  waken, 

In  insolent  crowds 

He  cries  out  with  terror,  in  agony  grasping, 
Yet  ever  the  name  of  his  Pegasus  clasping, 

They  heavenward  spring; 

Each  leap  that  he  takes  with  fresh  woe  is  attended; 
He  totters — falls  lifeless — the  struggle  is  ended — 

And  rises  as  King!  * 

The  original  Allegro  agitato  in  broad  6/4    time 
(aptly  suggestive  of  the  unbridled  motion)   grows 

(In  brass  and  strings  with  lower  8ve.) 


ff  Bempre 

(With  constant  clattering  higher  strings  and 
chord  of  low  wind  on  the  middle  beat) 

more  rapid  into  an  alia  breve  pace  (in  two  beats), 
with  dazzling  maze  of  lesser  rhythms.  Throughout 
the  work  a  song  of  primeval  strain  prevails.  Here 
and  there  a  tinge  of  foreshadowing  pain  appears,  as 
the  song  sounds  on  high,  espressivo  dolente.  But  the 

*  The  English  verses  are  taken  for  the  most  part  from 
the  translation  of  F.  Corder. 

51 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

fervor  and  fury  of  movement  is  undiminished.  The 
brief  touch  of  pathos  soon  merges  in  the  general 
heroic  mood.  Later,  the  whole  motion  ceases,  "the 
horse  sinks  and  dies/'  and  now  an  interlude  sings  a 
pure  plaint  (in  the  strain  of  the  main  motive) .  Then, 
Allegro,  the  martial  note  clangs  in  stirring  trumpet 
and  breaks  into  formal  song  of  war,  Allegro  marziale. 


(Brass  and  strings) 
Allegro  marziale 


(With  lower  8ve.) 


In  the  wake  of  this  song,  with  a  relentless  trip 
and  tramp  of  warrior  hordes,  is  the  real  clash  and 
jingle  of  the  battle,  where  the  sparkling  thrill  of 
strings  and  the  saucy  counter  theme  are  strong  ele- 
ments in  the  stirring  beauty. 

There  is  a  touch  here  of  the  old  Goth,  or  rather 
the  Hun,  nearer  akin  to  the  composer's  race. 

At  the  height  rings  out  the  main  tune  of  yore, 
transformed;  in  triumphant  majesty. 

The  musical  design  embraces  various  phases.  First 
is  the  clear  rhythmic  sense  of  the  ride.  We  think 
of  other  instances  like  Schubert's  "  Erl-King "  or 
the  ghostly  ride  in  Eaff's  "  Lenore  "  Symphony. 

The  degree  of  vivid  description  must  vary,  not 
52 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

only  with  the  composer,  but  with  the  hearer.  The 
greatest  masters  have  yielded  to  the  variety  of  the 
actual  graphic  touch.  And,  too,  there  are  always 
interpreters  who  find  it,  even  if  it  was  never  in- 
tended. Thus  it  is  common  to  hear  at  the  very 
beginning  of  the  "  Mazeppa "  music  the  cry  that 
goes  up  as  starts  the  flight. 

We  are  of  course  entitled,  if  we  prefer,  to  feel  the 
poetry  rather  than  the  picture.  Finally  it  is  probably 
true  that  such  a  poetic  design  is  not  marred  merely 
because  there  is  here  or  there  a  trick  of  onomato- 
preia ;  if  it  is  permitted  in  poetry,  why  not  in  music  ? 
It  may  be  no  more  than  a  spur  to  the  fancy,  a  quick 
conjuring  of  the  association. 

HUNNENSCHLACHT— "  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE 
HUNS  " 

Liszt's  symphonic  poem,  "  Hunnenschlacht,"  one 
of  the  last  of  his  works  in  this  form,  completed  in 
1857,  was  directly  inspired  by  the  picture  of  the 
German  painter,  Wilhelm  Kaulbach,  which  repre- 
sents the  legend  of  the  aerial  battle  between  the 
spirits  of  the  Eomans  and  Huns  who  had  fallen  out- 
side of  the  walls  of  Rome.* 

*  A  description  of  the  picture  is  cited  by  Lawrence  Gil- 
man  in  his  book,  "  Stories  of  Symphonic  Music,"  as  follows : 

"  According  to  a  legend,  the  combatants  were  so  exasper- 
ated that  the  slain  rose  during  the  night  and  fought  in  the 
air.  Rome,  which  is  seen  in  the  background,  is  said  to  have 
been  the  scene  of  this  event.  Above,  borne  on  a  shield, 

53 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  evidence  of  the  composer's  intent  is  embodied 
in  a  letter  written  in  1857  to  the  wife  of  the  painter, 
which  accompanied  the  manuscript  of  an  arrange- 
ment of  the  music  for  two  pianos.  In  the  letter  Liszt 
speaks  of  "  the  meteoric  and  solar  light  which  I  have 
borrowed  from  the  painting,  and  which  at  the  Finale 
I  have  formed  into  one  whole  by  the  gradual  working 
up  of  the  Catholic  choral  '  Crux  fi delis/  and  the 
meteoric  sparks  blended  therewith."  He  continues: 
"As  I  have  already  intimated  to  Kaulbach,  in 
Munich,  I  was  led  by  the  musical  demands  of  the 
material  to  give  proportionately  more  place  to  the 
solar  light  of  Christianity,  personified  in  the  Catholic 
choral  .  .  .  than  appears  to  be  the  case  in  the 
glorious  painting,  in  order  to  win  and  pregnantly 
represent  the  conclusion  of  the  Victory  of  the  Cross, 
with  which  I  both  as  a  Catholic  and  as  a  man  could 
not  dispense." 

The  work  begins  tempestuoso  (allegro  non  troppo), 
with  a  nervous  theme  over  soft  rolling  drums  and 


Tempestuoso.  Allegro  non  troppo 


lkj"1  fa 


mf 

(Bassoons  with  tremolo  cellos 
and  roll  of  kettle-drums) 


is  Attila,  with  a  scourge  in  his  hand;  opposite  him  Theo- 
doric,  King  of  the  Visigoths.  The  foreground  is  a  battle- 
field, strewn  with  corpses,  which  are  seen  to  be  gradually 
reviving,  rising  up  and  rallying,  while  among  them  wander 
wailing  and  lamenting  women." 

64 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

trembling  low  strings,  that  is  taken  up  as  in  fugue 
by  successive  groups  and  carried  to  a  height  where 
enters  a  fierce  call  of  the  horns.  The  cries  of  battle 
spread  with  increasing  din  and  gathering  speed.  At 
the  first  climax  the  whole  motion  has  a  new  energy, 
as  the  strings  in  feverish  chase  attack  the  quickened 
motive  with  violent  stress.  Later,  though  the  motion 
has  not  lessened,  the  theme  has  returned  to  a  sem- 
blance of  its  former  pace,  and  again  the  cries  of  battle 
(in  brass  and  wood)  sound  across  its  path. 

(Strings,  tremolo,  doubled  above) 


f  feroce 

In  the  hush  of  the  storm  the  full-blown  call  to 
arms  is  heard  in  lowest,  funereal  tones.  Of  a  sud- 
den, though  the  speed  is  the  same,  the  pace  changes 
with  a  certain  terror  as  of  a  cavalry  attack.  Presently 
amid  the  clattering  tramp  sounds  the  big  hymn, — in 
the  ancient  rhythm  that  moves  strangely  out  of  the 
rut  of  even  time.* 

A  single  line  of  the  hymn  is  followed  by  a  refrain 
of  the  battle-call,  and  by  the  charge  of  horse  that 

*  Quoted   on   the   following   page. 
55 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


brings  back  the  hymn,  in  high  pitch  of  trumpets. 
And  so  recur  the  former  phases  of  battle,  —  really 
of  threat  and  preparation.  For  now  begins  the 
serious  fray  in  one  long  gathering  of  speed  and  power. 
The  first  theme  here  grows  to  full  melodic  song,  with 
extended  answer,  led  by  strepitous  band  of  lower 
reed  over  a  heavy  clatter  of  strings.  We  are  in  a 


(Trombones  with  lower  8ve) 


mf)  Harcato 


maze  of  furious  charges  and  cries,  till  the  shrill 
trumpet  and  the  stentorian  trombone  strike  the  full 
call  in  antiphonal  song.  The  tempest  increases  with 
a  renewed  charge  of  the  strings,  and  now  the  more 
distant  calls  have  a  slower  sweep.  Later  the  battle 
song  is  in  the  basses, — again  in  clashing  basses  and 
trebles ;  nearer  strike  the  broad  sweeping  calls. 

Suddenly  over  the  hushed  motion  in  soothing  har- 
monies sings  the  hymn  in  pious  choir  of  all  the  brass. 
Then  the  gathering  speed  and  volume  is  merged  in  a 
majestic  tread  as  of  ordered  array  (Maestoso  assai; 
Andante) ;  a  brief  spirited  prelude  of  martial  motives 
is  answered  by  the  soft  religious  strains  of  the  organ 
on  the  line  of  the  hymn : 

56 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  LISZT 

"  Crux  fidelis,  inter  omnes 
Arbor  una  nobilis, 
Nulla  silva  talem  profert 
Fronde,  flore,  germine. 
Dulce    lignum,    dulces    clavos, 
Dulce  pondus  sustinet."  * 

As  in  solemn  liturgy  come  the  answering  phrases 
of  the  organ  and  the  big  chorus  in  martial  tread. 
As  the  hymn  winds  its  further  course,  violins  entwine 
about  the  harmonies.  The  last  line  ends  in  expressive 
strain  and  warm  line  of  new  major  tone, — echoed  in 
interluding  organ  and  violins. 

Suddenly  a  strict,  solemn  tread,  with  sharp  stress 
of  violins,  brings  a  new  song  of  the  choral.  Strings 
alone  play  here  "  with  pious  expression  " ;  gradually 
reeds  add  support  and  ornament.  A  lingering  phrase 
ascends  on  celestial  harmonies.  With  a  stern  shock 
the  plain  hymn  strikes  in  the  reed,  against  a  rapid 
course  of  strings,  with  fateful  tread.  In  interlude 
sound  the  battle-cries  of  yore.  Again  the  hymn  ends 
in  the  expressive  cadence,  though  now  it  grows  to  a 
height  of  power. 

Here  a  former  figure  (the  first  motive  of  the  battle) 

*  Faithful  cross,  among  the  trees 
Thou  the  noblest  of  them  all! 
Forest  ne'er  doth  grow  a  like 
In  leaf,  in  flower  or  in  seed. 
Blessed  wood  and  blessed  nails, 
Blessed  burden  that  it  bears! 
57 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

reappears  in  a  new  guise  of  bright  major,*  in  full, 
spirited  stride,  and  leads  once  more  to  a  blast  of  the 
hymn,  with  organ  and  all,  the  air  in  unison  of  trum- 
pets and  all  the  wood.  The  expressive  cadence  merges 
into  a  last  fanfare  of  battle,  followed  by  a  strain 
of  hymns  and  with  reverberating  Amens,  where  the 
organ  predominates  and  holds  long  after  all  other 
sounds  have  ceased. 

*  In  the  whole  tonality  we  may  see  the  "  meteoric  and 
solar  light"  of  which  the  composer  speaks  in  the  letter 
quoted  above. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

THERE  is  something  charming  and  even  ideal  in 
a  complete  versatility,  quite  apart  from  the 
depth  of  the  separate  poems,  where  there  is  a  never- 
failing  touch  of  grace  and  of  distinction.  The  Philip 
Sydneys  are  quite  as  important  as  the  Miltons,  per- 
haps they  are  as  great.  Some  poets  seem  to  achieve 
an  expression  in  a  certain  cyclic  or  sporadic  career 
of  their  fancy,  touching  on  this  or  that  form, 
illuminating  with  an  elusive  light  the  various  corners 
of  the  garden.  Their  individual  expression  lies  in 
the  ensemble  of  these  touches,  rather  than  in  a  single 
profound  revelation. 

A  symptom  of  the  eminence  of  Saint-Saens  in  the 
history  of  French  music  lies  in  his  attitude  towards 
the  art  as  a  whole,  especially  of  the  German  masters, 
— the  absence  of  national  bias  in  his  perceptions.  He 
was  foremost  in  revealing  to  his  countrymen  the 
greatness  of  Bach,  Beethoven  and  Schumann.  With- 
out their  influence  the  present  high  state  of  French 
music  can  hardly  be  conceived. 

It  is  part  of  a  broad  and  versatile  mastery  that  it 
is  difficult  to  analyze.  Thus  it  is  not  easy  to  find 
salient  traits  in  the  art  of  M.  Saint-Saens.  We  are 
apt  to  think  mainly  of  the  distinguished  beauty  of 

59 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

his  harmonies,  until  we  remember  his  subtle  counter- 
point, or  in  turn  the  brilliancy  of  his  orchestration. 
The  one  trait  that  he  has  above  his  contemporaries  is 
an  inbred  refinement  and  restraint, — a  thorough- 
going workmanship.  If  he  does  not  share  a  certain 
overwrought  emotionalism  that  is  much  affected 
nowadays,  there  is  here  no  limitation — rather  a  dis- 
tinction. Aside  from  the  general  charm  of  his  art, 
Saint-Saens  found  in  the  symphonic  poem  his  one 
special  form,  so  that  it  seemed  Liszt  had  created  it 
less  for  himself  than  for  his  French  successor.  A  fine 
reserve  of  poetic  temper  saved  him  from  hysterical 
excess.  He  never  lost  the  music  in  the  story,  disdain- 
ing the  mere  rude  graphic  stroke;  in  his  dramatic 
symbols  a  musical  charm  is  ever  commingled.  And  a 
like  poise  helped  him  to  a  right  plot  and  point  in  his 
descriptions.  So  his  symphonic  poems  must  ever 
be  enjoyed  mainly  for  the  music,  with  perhaps  a 
revery  upon  the  poetic  story.  With  a  less  brilliant 
vein  of  melody,  though  they  are  not  so  Promethean 
in  reach  as  those  of  Liszt,  they  are  more  complete 
in  the  musical  and  in  the  narrative  effect. 

DAN8E  MACABRE 

Challenged  for  a  choice  among  the  works  of  the 
versatile  composer,  we  should  hit  upon  the  Danse 
Macabre  as  the  most  original,  profound  and 
essentially  beautiful  of  all.  It  is  free  from  certain 
lacks  that  one  feels  in  other  works,  with  all  their 

60 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

charm, — a  shallowness  and  almost  frivolity ;  a  facility 
of  theme  approaching  the  commonplace. 

There  is  here  an  eccentric  quality  of  humor,  a 
daemonic  conceit  that  reach  the  height  of  other  classic 
expression  of  the  supernatural. 

The  music  is  founded  upon  certain  lines  of  a  poem 
of  Henri  Calais  (under  a  like  title),  that  may  be 
given  as  follows: 

Zig-a-zig,  zig-a-zig-a-zig, 
Death  knocks  on  the  tomb  with  rhythmic  heel. 

Zig-a-zig,  zig-a-zig-zig, 
Death  fiddles  at  midnight  a  ghostly  reel. 

The  winter  wind  whistles,  dark  is  the  night; 

Dull  groans  behind  the  lindens  grow  loud; 
Back  and  forth  fly  the  skeletons  white, 

Running  and  leaping  each  under  his  shroud. 
Zig-a-zig-a-zig,  how  it  makes  you  quake, 
As  you  hear  the  bones  of  the  dancers  shake. 

But  hist!  all  at  once  they  vanish  away, 
The  cock  has  hailed  the  dawn  of  day. 

The  magic  midnight  strokes  sound  clear  and  sharp. 
In  eager  chords  of  tuned  pitch  the  fiddling  ghost  sum- 
mons the  dancing  groups,  where  the  single  fife  is 
soon  followed  by  demon  violins. 

Broadly  sings  now  the  descending  tune  half-way 
between  a  wail  and  a  laugh.  And  ever  in  interlude 
is  the  skipping,  mincing  step, — here  of  reeds  answered 
by  solo  violin  with  a  light  clank  of  cymbals.  Answer- 
ing the  summoning  fifes,  the  unison  troop  of  fiddlers 

61 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


dance  the  main  step  to  bright  strokes  of  triangle,  then 
the  main  ghostly  violin  trips  in  with  choir  of  wind. 
And  broadly  again  sweeps  the  song  between  tears  and 


In  waltz  rhythm 
,  (Flute)    ten. 


ten. 


con  8va.  (Harp,  with  sustained  bass  note  of  strings) 

smiles.    Or  Death  fiddles  the  first  strain  of  reel  for 
the  tumultuous  answer  of  chorus. 

Now  they  build  a,  busy,  bustling  fugue   (of  the 
descending  song)   and  at  the  serious  moment  sud- 

(Solo  violin)  areo 
f  Largamentc 


1 


(Pizz.  strings) 


denly  they  skip  away  in  new  frolicsome,  all  but  joyous, 
tune:  a  shadowy  counterfeit  of  gladness,  where  the 
sob  hangs  on  the  edge  of  the  smile.  As  if  it  could  no 
longer  be  contained,  now  pours  the  full  passionate 
grief  of  the  broad  descending  strain.  Death  fiddles 

62 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

his  mournful  chant  to  echoing,  expressive  wind.  On 
the  abandon  of  grief  follows  the  revel  of  grim  humor 
in  pranks  of  mocking  demons.  All  the  strains  are 
mingled  in  the  ghostly  bacchanale.  The  descend- 
ing song  is  answered  in  opposite  melody.  A 
chorus  of  laughter  follows  the  tripping  dance.  The 
summoning  chords,  acclaimed  by  chorus,  grow  to 
appealing  song  in  a  brief  lull.  At  the  height,  to  the 
united  skipping  dance  of  overpowering  chorus  the 
brass  blows  the  full  verse  of  descending  song.  The 
rest  is  a  mad  storm  of  carousing  till  .  .  .  out  of 
the  whirling  darkness  sudden  starts  the  sharp,  sheer 
call  of  prosaic  day,  in  high,  shrill  reed.  On  a  minish- 
ing  sound  of  rolling  drum  and  trembling  strings, 
smgs  a  brief  line  of  wistful  rhapsody  of  the  departing 
spirit  before  the  last  whisking  steps. 

PHJETON 

On  a  separate  page  between  title  and  score  is  a 
"Notice" — an  epitome  of  the  story  of  Phaeton, 
as  follows : 

"  Phaeton  has  been  permitted  to  drive  the  chariot 
of  the  Sun,  his  father,  through  the  heavens.  But  his 
unskilful  hands  frighten  the  steeds.  The  flaming 
chariot,  thrown  out  of  its  course,  approaches  the  ter- 
restrial regions.  The  whole  universe  is  on  the  verge 
of  ruin  when  Jupiter  strikes  the  imprudent  Phaeton 
with  his  thunderbolt." 

There  is  a  solemn  sense  at  first  (Maestoso),  a  mid- 
63 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

air  poise  of  the  harmony,  a  quick  spring  of  resolu- 
tion and — on  through  the  heavens.  At  the  outset 
and  always  is  the  pervading  musical  charm.  In 
the  beginning  is  the  enchantment  of  mere  motion  in 
lightest  prancing  strings  and  harp  with  slowly  ascend- 
ing curve.  In  farther  journey  comes  a  spring  of  the 
higher  wood  and  soon  a  firm  note  of  horns  and  a  blast 
of  trumpets  on  a  chirruping  call,  till  the  whole  pano- 
ply of  solar  brilliance  is  shimmering.  Now  with  the 
continuing  pulse  (of  saltant  strings)  rings  a  buoyant, 

Allegro  animate 
(Violins). 


/IL.  (Trumpets  and)  flF  f  ~~f 

ito         trombones  1  •=="         ^*i 


Marcato         trombones) 

regnant  air  in  the  brass.  A  (canon)  chase  of  echoing 
voices  merely  adds  an  entrancing  bewilderment,  then 
yields  to  other  symbols  and  visions. 

Still  rises  the  thread  of  pulsing  strings  to  higher 
empyraean  and  then  floats  forth  in  golden  horns,  as 
we  hang  in  the  heavens,  a  melody  tenderly  solemn, 
as  of  pent  delight,  or  perhaps  of  a  more  fatal  hue, 
with  the  solar  orb  encircled  by  his  satellites. 

Still  on  to  a  higher  pole  spins  the  dizzy  path ;  then 
at  the  top  of  the  song,  it  turns  in  slow  descending 
curve.  Almost  to  Avernus  seems  the  gliding  fall  when 
the  first  melody  rings  anew.  But  there  is  now  an 
anxious  sense  that  dims  the  joy  of  motion  and  in  the 

64 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 


(With  trembling  of  violina 
in  high  B  flat)>T     Z~~ 


returning  first  motive  jars  the  buoyant  spring. 
Through  the  maze  of  fugue  with  tinge  of  terror 
presses  the  fatuous  chase,  when — crash  comes  the 
shock  of  higher  power.  There  is  a  pause  of  motion 
in  the  din  and  a  downward  flight  as  of  lifeless  figure. 
Now  seems  the  soul  of  the  sweet  melody  to  sing, 
in  purest  dirge,  without  the  shimmer  of  attendant 
motion  save  a  ghostly  shadow  of  the  joyous  symbol. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  HERCULES 

The  "  Legend  "  is  printed  in  the  score  as  follows : 

"  Fable  tells  us  that  upon  entering  into  life  Her- 
cules saw  the  two  paths  open  before  him :  of  pleasure 
and  of  virtue. 

"  Insensible  to  the  seductions  of  Nymphs  and  Bac- 
chantes, the  hero  devotes  himself  to  the  career  of 
struggle  and  combat,  at  the  end  of  which  he  glimpses 
across  the  flames  of  the  funeral  pyre  the  reward  of 
immortality." 

We  can  let  our  fancy  play  about  the  score  and 
wonderfully  hit  an  intention  of  the  poet.  Yet  that  is 
5  65 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

often  rather  a  self-flattery  than  a  real  perception. 
In  the  small  touches  we  may  lose  the  greater  beauty. 
Here,  after  all,  is  the  justification  of  the  music.  If 
the  graphic  picture  is  added,  a  little,  only,  is  gained. 
The  main  virtue  of  it  lies  in  our  better  grasp  of  the 
musical  design. 

In  the  muted  strings,  straying  dreamily  in  pairs,  is 
a  vague  line  of  the  motto, — a  foreshadowing  of  the 
heroic  idea,  as  are  the  soft  calls  of  the  wind  with 
wooing  harp  a  first  vision  of  delight. 

Allegro  moderate 
(Strings) 


Now  begins  the  main  song  in  sturdy  course  of  un- 
muted  strings.  The  wood  soon  join  in  the  rehearsing. 
But  it  is  not  all  easy  deciphering.  The  song  wanders 
in  gently  agitated  strings  while  the  horns  hold  a  sol- 
emn phrase  that  but  faintly  resembles  the  motto.* 

*  It  is  well  to  resist  the  vain  search  for  a  transnotation 
of  the  story.  And  here  we  see  a  virtue  of  Saint-Saens  him- 
self, a  national  trait  of  poise  that  saved  him  from  losing 
the  music  in  the  picture.  His  symphonic  poems  must  be 
enjoyed  in  a  kind  of  musical  revery  upon  the  poetic  subject. 
He  disdained  the  rude  graphic  stroke,  and  used  dramatic 
means  only  where  a  musical  charm  was  commingled. 

66 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

Lesser  phrases  play  about  the  bigger  in  rising  flight 
of  aspiration,  crowned  at  the  height  with  a  ray  of 
glad  light. 

As  the  dream  sinks  slowly  away,  the  stern  motto 
is  buried  in  quick  flashes  of  the  tempting  call.  These 
are  mere  visions;  now  comes  the  scene  itself  of 
temptation. 

To  ripples  of  harp  the  reed  sings  enchantingly 
in  swaying  rhythm;  other  groups  in  new  surprise  of 

(Flutes,  oboe,  clarinets 
and  harp) 


scene  usurp  the  melody  with  the  languishing  answer, 
until  one  Siren  breaks  into  an  impassioned  burst, 
while  her  sisters  hold  the  dance. 

Straight  upon  her  vanished  echoes  shrieks  the  shrill 
pipe  of  war,  with  trembling  drum.  We  hear  a  yearn- 
ing sigh  of  the  Siren  strain  before  it  is  swept  away  in 
the  tide  and  tumult  of  strife.  Beneath  the  whirl  and 
motion,  the  flash  and  crash  of  arms,  we  have  glimpses 
of  the  heroic  figure. 

Here  is  a  strange  lay  in  the  fierce  chorus  of  battle- 
cries:  the  Siren  song  in  bright  insistence,  changed 
to  the  rushing  pace  of  war. 

The  scene  ends  in  a  crash.  Loud  sings  a  solemn 
phrase ;  do  we  catch  an  edge  of  wistful  regret  ?  Now 

67 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

returns  the  sturdy  course  of  the  main  heroic  melody ; 
only  it  is  slower  (Andante  sostenuto),  and  the  high 
stress  of  cadence  is  solemnly  impassioned. 

As  if  to  atone  for  the  slower  pace,  the  theme 
strikes  into  a  lively  fugue,  with  trembling  strings 
(Allegro  animato). 

There  is  an  air  of  achievement  in  the  relentless 
progress  and  the  insistent  recurrence  of  the  master- 
ful motive.  An  episode  there  is  of  mere  striving  and 
straining,  before  the  theme  resumes  its  vehement 
attack,  followed  by  lusty  echoes  all  about  as  of  an 
army  of  heroes.  There  is  the  breath  of  battle  in  the 
rumbling  basses  and  the  shaking,  quivering  brass. 

At  last  the  plain  song  resounds  in  simple  lines 
of  ringing  brass,  led  by  the  high  bugle.* 

Yet  the  struggle,  the  inner  combat,  is  not  over. 
At  the  very  moment  of  triumph  sings  on  high  over 
purling  harp  the  mastering  strain  of  Sirens,  is  buried 
beneath  martial  clash  and  emerges  with  its  enchant- 
ment. But  here  the  virile  mood  and  motive  gains  the 
victory  and  strides  on  to  final  scene. 

We  remember  how  Hercules  built  and  ascended 
his  own  funeral  pyre.  In  midst  of  quivering  strings, 
with  dashing  harp  and  shrieking  wood,  a  roll  of  drum 
and  a  clang  of  brass  sounds  the  solemn  chant  of  the 
trombone,  descending  in  relentless  steps.  As  the  low- 
est is  reached,  there  comes  a  spring  of  freedom  in  the 

*  Saint-Saens  employs  besides  the  usual  4  horns,  2  trum- 
pets, 3  trombones  and  tuba,  a  small  bugle  (in  B-fiat)  and 
2  cornets. 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

pulsing  figures,  like  the  winging  of  a  spirit,  and  a 
final  acclaim  in  a  brief  line  of  the  legend. 

OMPHALE'8  SPINNING  WHEEL 

Between  title  and  score  is  this  Notice : 

"  The  subject  of  this  symphonic  poem  is  feminine 
witchery,  the  triumphant  struggle  of  weakness.  The 
spinning  wheel  is  a  mere  pretext,  chosen  from  the 
point  of  view  of  rhythm  and  the  general  atmosphere 
of  the  piece. 

"  Those  persons  who  might  be  interested  in  a  study 
of  the  details  of  the  picture,  will  see  ...  the  hero 
groaning  in  the  toils  which  he  cannot  break,  and 
.  .  .  Omphale  mocking  the  vain  efforts  of  Hercules." 

The  versions  of  the  story  differ  slightly.  After  the 
fulfilment  of  his  twelve  labors  Hercules  is  ordered 
by  the  oracle  to  a  period  of  three  years'  service  to 
expiate  the  killing  of  the  son  of  King  Eurytus  in  a 
fit  of  madness.  Hermes  placed  him  in  the  household 
of  Omphale,  queen  of  Lydia,  widow  of  Tmolus. 
Hercules  is  degraded  to  female  drudgery,  is  clothed 
in  soft  raiment  and  set  to  spin  wool,  while  the  queen 
assumes  the  lion  skin  and  club. 

In  another  version  he  was  sold  as  slave  to  Omphale, 
who  restored  him  to  freedom.  Their  passion  was 
mutual.  The  story  has  a  likeness  to  a  similar  episode 
of  Achilles. 

The  spinning-wheel  begins  Andante  in  muted 
strings  alternating  with  flutes  and  gradually  hurries 
into  a  lively  motion.  Here  the  horn  accents  the 

69 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

spinning,  while  another  thread  (of  higher  wood) 
runs  through  the  graceful  woof.  A  chain  of  alluring 
harmonies  preludes  the  ensnaring  song,  mainly  of 
woodwind  above  the  humming  strings,  with  soft  dot- 
ting of  the  harmony  by  the  horns.  The  violins,  to 
be  sure,  often  enforce  the  melody. 


Andantino 

(Fl.  and  muted  violins) 


In  the  second  verse,  with  fuller  chorus,  the  harp 
adds  its  touches  to  the  harmony  of  the  horns,  with 
lightest  tap  of  tonal  drum.  Later  a  single  note  of 
the  trumpet  is  answered  by  a  silvery  laugh  in  the 
wood.  Between  the  verses  proceeds  the  luscious 
chain  of  harmonies,  as  with  the  turning  of  the 
wheel. 

70 


THE  SYMPHONIC  POEMS  OF  SAINT-SAENS 

Now  with  the  heavily  expressive  tones  of  low, 
unmuted  strings  and  the  sonorous  basses  of  reed  and 
brass  (together  with  a  low  roll  of  drum  and  soft 
clash  of  cymbals)  an  heroic  air  sings  in  low  strings 
and  brass,  to  meet  at  each  period  a  shower  of  notes 
from  the  harp.  The  song  grows  intense  with  the 


(Wood  and  trem.  violins  doubled  above) 

— 


f)  espress.  e  pesante 
(Cellos,  basses,  bassoons  and  trombone,  doubled  below) 

added  clang  of  trumpets  and  roll  of  drums, — only  to 
succumb  to  the  more  eager  attack  of  the  siren  chorus. 
At  last  the  full  effort  of  strength  battling  vainly  with 
weakness  reaches  a  single  heroic  height  and  sinks 
away  with  dull  throbs. 

In  soothing  answer  falls  the  caressing  song  of 
the  high  reed  in  the  phrase  of  the  heroic  strain, 
lightly,  quickly  and,  it  seems,  mockingly  aimed. 
In  gently  railing  triumph  returns  the  pretty  song 
of  the  wheel,  with  a  new  buoyant  spring.  Drums 
and  martial  brass  yield  to  the  laughing  flutes,  the  coo- 
ing horns  and  the  soft  rippling  harp  with  murmuring 
strings,  to  return  like  captives  in  the  train  at  the 
height  of  the  gaiety. 

71 


CHAPTER  VH 
'          FKANCK 


THE  new  French  school  of  symphony  that  broke 
upon  the  world  in  the  latter  part  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  had  its  pioneer  and  true  leader  in 
Cesar  Franck.*  It  was  he  who  gave  it  a  stamp 
and  a  tradition. 

The  novelty  of  his  style,  together  with  the  lateness 
of  his  acclaim  (of  which  it  was  the  probable  cause), 
have  marked  him  as  more  modern  than  others  who 
were  born  long  after  him. 

The  works  of  Franck,  in  other  lines  of  oratorio 
and  chamber  music,  show  a  clear  personality,  quite 
apart  from  a  prevailing  modern  spirit.  A  certain 
charm  of  settled  melancholy  seems  to  inhere  in  his 
wonted  style.  A  mystic  is  Franck  in  his  dominant 
moods,  with  a  special  sense  and  power  for  subtle 
harmonic  process,  ever  groping  in  a  spiritual  dis- 
content with  defined  tonality. 

A  glance  at  the  detail  of  his  art  discloses  Franck 
as  one  of  the  main  harmonists  of  his  age,  with 
Wagner  and  Grieg.  Only,  his  harmonic  manner  was 

*  If  language  and  association,  as  against  the  place  of 
birth,  may  define  nationality,  we  have  in  C6sar  Franck  an- 
other worthy  expression  of  French  art  in  the  symphony. 
He  was  born  at  Liege  in  1822  ;  he  died  in  1890. 

72 


CESAR  FRANCK 

blended  if  not  balanced  by  a  stronger,  sounder 
counterpoint  than  either  of  the  others.  But  with  all 
the  originality  of  his  style  we  cannot  escape  a  sense  of 
the  stereotype,  that  indeed  inheres  in  all  music  that 
depends  mainly  on  an  harmonic  process.  His  har- 
monic ideas,  that  often  seem  inconsequential,  in  the 
main  merely  surprise  rather  than  move  or  please. 
The  enharmonic  principle  is  almost  too  predominant, 
— an  element  that  ought  never  to  be  more  than  occa- 
sional. For  it  is  founded  not  upon  ideal,  natural 
harmony,  but  upon  a  conventional  compromise,  an  ex- 
pedient compelled  by  the  limitation  of  instruments. 
This  over-stress  appears  far  stronger  in  the  music  of 
Franck's  followers,  above  all  in  their  frequent  use 
of  the  whole  tone  "  scale  "  which  can  have  no  other 
rationale  than  a  violent  extension  of  the  enharmonic 
principle.*  With  a  certain  quality  of  kaleidoscope, 
there  is  besides  (in  the  harmonic  manner  of  Cesar 
Franck)  an  infinitesimal  kind  of  progress  in  small- 
est steps.  It  is  a  dangerous  form  of  ingenuity,  to 

*  Absolute  harmony  would  count  many  more  than  the 
semitones  of  which  our  music  takes  cognizance.  For  pur- 
pose of  convenience  on  the  keyboard  the  semitonal  raising 
of  one  note  is  merged  in  the  lowering  of  the  next  higher 
degree  in  the  scale.  However  charming  for  occasional  sur- 
prise may  be  such  a  substitution,  a  continuous,  pervading 
use  cannot  but  destroy  the  essential  beauty  of  harmony 
and  the  clear  sense  of  tonality;  moreover  it  is  mechanical 
in  process,  devoid  of  poetic  fancy,  purely  chaotic  in  effect. 
There  is  ever  a  danger  of  confusing  the  novel  in  art  with 
new  beauty. 

73 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

which  the  French  are  perhaps  most  prone, — an  orig- 
inality mainly  in  details. 

And  yet  we  must  praise  in  the  French  master  a 
wonderful  workmanship  and  a  profound  sincerity 
of  sentiment.  He  shows  probably  the  highest  point 
to  which  a  style  that  is  mainly  harmonic  may  rise. 
But  when  he  employs  his  broader  mastery  of  tonal 
architecture,  he  attains  a  rare  height  of  lofty  feeling, 
with  reaches  of  true  dramatic  passion. 

The  effect,  to  be  sure,  of  his  special  manner  is 
somewhat  to  dilute  the  temper  of  his  art,  and  to  de- 
press the  humor.  It  is  thus  that  the  pervading 
melancholy  almost  compels  the  absence  of  a  "slow 
movement "  in  his  symphony.  And  so  we  feel  in  all 
his  larger  works  for  instruments  a  suddenness  of 
recoil  in  the  Finale. 

One  can  see  in  Franck,  in  analogy  with  his  German 
contemporaries,  an  etherealized  kind  of  "  Tristan  and 
Isolde," — a  "Paolo  and  Francesca"  in  a  world  of 
shades.  Compared  with  his  followers  the  quality  of 
stereotype  in  Franck  is  merely  general;  there  is  no 
excessive  use  of  one  device. 

A  baffling  element  in  viewing  the  art  of  Franck  is 
his  remoteness  of  spirit,  the  strangeness  of  his  temper. 
He  lacked  the  joyous  spring  that  is  a  dominant  note 
in  the  classic  period.  Nor  on  the  other  hand  did  his 
music  breathe  the  pessimism  and  naturalism  that 
came  with  the  last  rebound  of  Romantic  reaction. 
Rather  was  his  vein  one  of  high  spiritual  absorp- 
tion— not  so  much  in  recoil,  as  merely  apart  from 

74 


C^SAR  FRANCK 

the  world  in  a  kind  of  pious  seclusion.  Perhaps  his 
main  point  of  view  was  the  church-organ.  He  seems 
a  religious  prophet  in  a  non-religious  age.  With  his 
immediate  disciples  he  was  a  leader  in  the  manner  of 
his  art,  rather  than  in  the  temper  of  his  poetry. 

SYMPHONY  IN  D  MINOR 

The  scoring  shows  a  sign  of  modern  feeling  in  the 
prominence  of  the  brasses.  With  all  contrast  of 
spirit,  the  analogy  of  Franck  with  the  Liszt-Wagner 
school  and  manner  is  frequently  suggestive. 

The  main  novelty  of  outer  detail  is  the  plan  of 
merely  three  movements.  Nor  is  there  a  return  to  the 
original  form,  without  the  Scherzo.  To  judge  from 
the  headings,  the  "slow"  movement  is  absent.  In 
truth,  by  way  of  cursory  preamble,  the  chronic  vein 
of  Cesar  Franck  is  so  ingrainedly  reflective  that  there 
never  can  be  with  him  an  absence  of  the  meditative 
phrase.  Eather  must  there  be  a  vehement  rousing 
of  his  muse  from  a  state  of  mystic  adoration  to  rhyth- 
mic energy  and  cheer.* 

*  The  key  of  the  work  is  given  by  the  composer  as  D 
minor.  The  first  movement  alone  is  in  the  nominal  key. 
The  second  (in  B  flat)  is  in  the  submediant,  the  last  in  the 
tonic  major.  The  old  manner  in  church  music,  that  Bach 
often  used,  of  closing  a  minor  tonality  with  a  major  chord, 
was  probably  due  to  a  regard  for  the  mood  of  the  con- 
gregation. An  extension  of  this  tradition  is  frequent  in  a 
long  coda  in  the  major.  But  this  is  quite  different  in  kind 
from  a  plan  where  all  of  the  last  movement  is  in  insistent 
major.  We  know  that  it  is  quite  possible  to  begin  a  work 

75 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Lento  in  basses  of  the  strings  a  strain  sounds  like 
a  basic  motive,  answered  with  harmonies  in  the  wood. 
In  further  strings  lies  the  full  tenor  of  quiet  reflec- 
tion, with  sombre  color  of  tonal  scheme.  Motives 
are  less  controlling  probably  in  Franck  than  in  any 
other  symphonist,  —  less  so,  at  any  rate,  than  his  one 

Lento 


special  mood  and  manner.  Yet  nowhere  is  the  strict 
figural  plot  more  faithful  in  detail  than  with  Cesar 
Franck. 

The  theme  has  an  entirely  new  ring  and  answer 
when  it  enters  Allegro  after  the  Lento  prelude.  The 
further  course  of  the  tune  here  is  in  eccentric,  resolute 
stride  in  the  descending  scale.  Our  new  answer  is 
much  evident  in  the  bass.  The  Allegro  seems  a  mere 
irruption;  for  the  Lento  prelude  reappears  in  full 
solemnity.  Indeed,  with  all  the  title  and  pace,  this 

at  some  distance  from  the  main  key,  leading  to  it  by 
tortuous  path  of  modulation;  though  there  is  no  reason 
why  we  may  not  question  the  composer's  own  inscription, 
the  controlling  point  is  really  the  whole  tonal  scheme. 
Here  the  key  of  the  second  movement  is  built  on  a  design 
in  minor,  —  would  have  less  reason  in  the  major.  For  it 
rests  on  a  degree  that  does  not  exist  in  the  tonic  major. 
To  be  sure,  Beethoven  did  invent  the  change  to  a  lowered 
submediant  in  a  succeeding  movement.  And,  of  course, 
the  final  turn  to  the  tonic  major  ia  virtually  as  great  a 
license. 

76 


CESAR  FRANCK 

seems  very  like  the  virtual  "  slow "  movement.  A 
mood  of  rapt,  almost  melancholy  absorption  prevails, 
with  rare  flashes  of  joyous  utterance,  where  the 
Allegro  enters  as  if  to  break  the  thrall  of  meditation. 
A  very  striking  inversion  of  the  theme  now  appears. 
The  gradual  growth  of  phrases  in  melodious  instal- 
ments is  a  trait  of  Franck  (as  it  is  of  Kichard 
Strauss).  The  rough  motto  at  each  turn  has  a  new 


Allegro  non  troppo 
(Strings) 


phase  and  frequently  is  transfigured  to  a  fresh  tune. 
So  out  of  the  first  chance  counterfigures  somehow 
spring  beautiful  melodies,  where  we  feel  the  fitness 
and  the  relevance  though  we  have  not  heard  them 
before.  It  is  a  quality  that  Franck  shares  with 
Brahms,  so  that  in  a  mathematical  spirit  we  might 
care  to  deduce  all  the  figures  from  the  first  phrase. 
This  themal  manner  is  quite  analogous  to  the  har- 
monic style  of  Franck, — a  kaleidoscope  of  gradual 
steps,  a  slow  procession  of  pale  hues  of  tone  that  with 
strange  aptness  reflect  the  dim  religious  light  of 
mystic  musing. 

More  and  more  expressive  are  the  stages  of  the  first 
77 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

figures  until  we  have  a  duet  molto  cantabile  in  the 
strings.  Much  of  the  charm  of  the  movement  lies 
in  the  balance  of  the  new  rhythms,  the  eccentric  and 
the  flowing.  By  some  subtle  path  there  grows  a  song 


Allegro.  Motto  cantabile 


"S 


in  big  tones  of  unison,  wood  and  strings  and  trum- 
pets, that  is  the  real  hymnal  refrain  of  the  movement. 
Between  this  note  almost  of  exultation  and  all  shades 
of  pious  dreaming  the  mood  is  constantly  shifting. 


Another  phrase  rises  also  to  a  triumphant  height  (the 
clear  reverse  of  the  former  tuneful  melody)  that 
comes  now  like  a  big  envoi  of  assuring  message. 

Though  the  whole  movement  is  evenly  balanced  be- 
tween Allegro  and  Penseroso  (so  far  as  pace  is  con- 

78 


CESAR  FRANCE 

cerned),  the  mood  of  reflection  really  finds  full  vent; 
it  has  no  reason  for  a  further  special  expression. 

Simple  as  the  Allegretto  appears  in  its  suggestion 
of  halting  dance,  the  intent  in  the  episodes  is  of  the 
subtlest.  The  slow  trip  of  strings  and  harp  is  soon 
given  a  new  meaning  with  the  melody  of  English 
horn.  Throughout  we  are  somehow  divided  between 
pure  dance  and  a  more  thoughtful  muse.  In  the  first 
departure  to  an  episode  in  major,  seems  to  sing  the 
essence  of  the  former  melody  in  gently  murmuring 
strings,  where  later  the  whole  chorus  are  drawn  in. 
The  song  moves  on  clear  thread  and  wing  right  out 
of  the  mood  of  the  dance-tune;  but  the  very  charm 
lies  in  the  mere  outer  change  of  guise.  And  so  the 
second  episode  is  still  far  from  all  likeness  with  the 
first  dance  beyond  a  least  sense  of  the  old  trip  that 
does  appear  here  and  there.  It  is  all  clearly  a  true 
scheme  of  variations,  the  main  theme  disguised  be- 
yond outer  semblance,  yet  faithfully  present  through- 
out in  the  essential  rhythm  and  harmony. 

In  the  Finale,  Allegro  non  troppo,  we  are  really 
clear,  at  the  outset,  of  the  toils  of  musing  melancholy. 


Allegro  non  troppo 


79 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

After  big  bursts  of  chords,  a  tune  rolls  pleasantly 
along,  dolce  cantabile,  in  basses  of  wood  and  strings. 
Expressive  after-phrases  abound,  all  in  the  same 
jolly  mood,  until  the  whole  band  break  boisterously 
on  the  simple  song,  with  a  new  sonorous  phrase  of 
basses.  Then,  in  sudden  remove,  sounds  the  purest 
bit  of  melody  of  all  the  symphony,  in  gentlest  tones 


Dolce  cantabile 


(In  the  brass) 


of  brass  (trumpet,  trombone  and  tuba).  But, 
though  in  complete  recoil  from  the  rhythmic  energy 
of  Allegro  theme,  it  is  even  farther  from  the  re- 
flective mood  than  the  latter.  It  shows,  in  this  very 
contrast,  the  absence  of  the  true  lyric  in  the  meditative 
vein,  frequent  with  Cesar  Franck.  The  burst  of 
melody  blossoms  ever  fairer.  In  its  later  musing  the 
tune  browses  in  the  bass.  A  waving  phrase  grows  in 
the  violins,  which  continues  with  strange  evenness 
through  the  entrance  of  new  song  where  we  are  sur- 
prised by  the  strange  fitness  of  the  Allegretto  melody. 
And  the  second  phase  of  the  latter  follows  as  if  it 
belonged  here.  So,  almost  listless,  without  a  hair  of 

80 


CESAR  FRANCK 

rhythmic  change  (les  temps  out  ton  jours  la  meme 
valeur),  the  Finale  theme  sings  again  most  softly 
in  the  strings.  It  has,  to  be  sure,  lost  all  of  its 
color,  without  the  original  throb  of  accompanying 
sounds.  The  phase  of  the  movement  is  a  shadowy 
procession  of  former  ideas,  united  in  the  dreamy  haze 
that  enshrouds  them.  The  stir  that  now  begins  is 
not  of  the  first  pale  hue  of  thought,  rather  the  vein 
of  big  discussion,  brewing  a  storm  that  breaks  finally 
in  full  blast  on  the  gentle  melody  (of  the  brass) 
transfigured  in  ringing  triumph,  in  all  the  course  of 
the  song.  Nor  is  the  succeeding  phase  the  mystic 
habit  of  our  poet ;  it  is  a  mere  farther  digestion  of  the 
meat  of  the  melody  that  leads  once  more  to  a  height 
of  climax  whence  we  return  to  first  course  of  themes, 
tuneful  afterphrase  and  all,  with  the  old  happy 
motion.  The  counterpoint  here  is  the  mere  joyous 
ringing  of  many  strains  all  about. 

Against  all  rules  comes  a  new  chorusing  paean  on 
the  theme  of  Allegretto,  led  by  stentorian  basses,  to- 
gether with  an  enchanting  after-strain,  which  we 
might  have  remarked  before.  And  still  another  quar- 
ter, long  hushed,  is  heard  anew,  as  a  voice  sounds  a 
faint  reminder  of  the  hymn  of  the  first  Allegro. 
Indeed,  the  combining  strains  before  the  close  seem 
sprung  all  of  one  parental  idea.  The  motto  of  the 
beginning  sings  in  fittest  answer  to  the  latest  phrases. 
The  very  maze  of  the  concert  forbids  our  turning  to 
their  first  origin.  The  end  is  in  joyous  chanting  of 
the  Finale  melody. 

6  81 


CHAPTER  VIII 
D'INDY  AND  THE  FOLLOWERS  OF  FRANCE 

PERHAPS  the  noblest  essay  in  symphonic  music 
of  the  followers  of  Franck  is  the  second  sym- 
phony of  Vincent  D'Indy.*  His  vein  is  indeed 
throughout  nearest  akin  of  all  the  disciples  to  the 
serious  muse  of  the  master. 

Though  D'Indy  is  surpassed  in  a  certain  poetic 
originality  by  some  of  his  compatriot  contemporaries, 
there  is  in  this  symphony  a  breadth  of  design  and 
detail,  a  clear  melodic  quality  and  a  sustained  lofty 
feeling  that  seem  to  mark  it  the  typical  French  sym- 
phony of  its  time.  The  strength  of  the  work  lies  in 
a  unity  that  is  not  merely  of  figure  and  outline.  If 
we  must  measure  a  symphony  mainly  by  the  slow 
movement,  we  cannot  avoid,  with  all  the  languorous 
beauty,  a  certain  conventionality  of  mood,  stressed 
with  an  exotic  use  of  the  appoggiatura,  while  in  the 
Scherzo  is  a  refined  savagery  of  modern  cacophony. 

The  directions  are  all  in  French ;  we  are  reminded 
of  Schumann's  departure  from  the  Italian  fashion. 

Each  movement,  save  the  third,  has  its  prelude: 
a  gathering  of  threads  before  the  new  story.  The 
first  notes  of  basses,  together  with  the  answer  on 
high,  sound  a  prophetic  legend  of  the  whole. 

*  Vincent  d'Indy  was  born  in  Paris  on  March  27,  1852. 
82 


D'INDY  AND  THE  FOLLOWERS  OF  FRANCE 


The  harmonic  lucubrations  are  profoundly  subtle. 
Indeed  the  very  nature  of  the  first  phrase  is  of  dim 


Exlremement    (Woodwind)^ 
Lent. 


(Strings  and  harps) 

groping;  it  ends  in  a  climax  of  the  answer  and 
merges  into  the  main  song  of  the  Allegro  (tres  vif)  in 
horns,  with  rapid  trip  of  strings. 

.^  Tres  vif  (Horns) 

±J2~?y— 4 
X^P^* 


Throughout  (from  a  technical  view)  is  a  fine  mas- 
tery of  the  device  of  ornamental  notes,  and  secondary 

83 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

harmonies;  there  is  also  a  certain  modern  sense  of 
chords  and  their  relations.  Together  with  an  infinite 
brilliance  of  these  resources  there  is  not  only  no 
weakness  in  cogency  of  form,  but  there  is  a  rare  unity 
of  design.  The  movements  are  bound  together,  at 
least  in  themal  relation,  as  strictly  as  in  any 
symphony.  While  the  first  phrase  of  the  Allegro 
theme  may  hark  back  to  the  answer  of  original 
motto,  the  second  is  the  main  thread  of  narra- 


(Flutes,  oboes  and  clarinets) 


.Z  I     -  ^  rS-f*  4  J  9    r*\"  + 


^TtWg 


Sempre  staccato 

tive.  Again  and  again  is  the  climax  rung  on  the  first 
high  note  of  the  theme.  Then,  in  lieu  of  cadence, 
out  of  a  bright  dissonance  the  quick  notes  dance  up- 
ward in  sturdy  pace,  the  answer  of  the  Allegro  in 
sharp  disguise.  And  then  from  the  height  descends 
a  refreshing  spray  of  subtlest  discords,  ending  in 
another  masterful  burst  of  new  harmony. 

The  dainty,  dazzling  play  is  stopped  by  a  rough 
thud  of  basses  and  a  fierce  clang  of  chords.  In  the 
sharp  blare  of  brass  on  the  ascending  phrase  is 
almost  lost  the  original  motto  in  lowest  basses.  It 
is  now  heard  in  gradually  quickened  speed,  while  the 
rising  phrase  runs  more  timidly.  At  last  the  quick- 
ened motto  sinks  gently  into  lulling  motion,  un  pen 

84 


D'INDY  AND  THE  FOLLOWERS  OF  FRANCK 

plus  modere.  Above,  in  strings  and  horns,  the  melody 
haunts  us  with  a  dim  sense  that  takes  us  to  the  first 
languishing  answer  of  the  original  legend.  And  the 
whole  is  strong-knit;  for  the  very  Allegro  theme  be- 
gan in  resolute  mood  of  a  like  figure.  A  counter- 
strain  rises  to  meet  the  main  phrase.  The  whole 
episode  is  an  intertwining  of  song  in  the  vein  of  the 
first  answer  of  motto. 

The  quick  rising  notes  suddenly  return  with 
snatches  of  the  main  motive,  the  chain  of  echoing 
phrases  runs  a  gamut  of  moods,  fitful,  anxious, 
soothed,  until  the  bright  upward  trip  begins  anew, 
with  the  enchanting  burst  of  chord  and  descending 
harmonies.  A  climactic  height  is  stressed  by  a  rough 
meeting  of  opposing  groups,  in  hostile  tone  and  move- 
ment, ending  in  a  trill  of  flutes  and  a  reentry  of  the 
episode. 

In  the  returning  Allegro  the  thread  is  still  the 
same,  though  richer  in  color  and  texture.  Again 
there  is  the  plunge  into  dark  abyss,  with  shriek  of 
harp,  and  the  ominous  theme  in  the  depths.  The 
slow  ascending  phrase  here  has  a  full  song  and  sway. 
The  end  is  in  spirited  duet  of  two  quick  motives. 

The  second  movement,  moderement  lent,  begins  in 
revery  on  the  answer  of  original  motive,  and  the 
stately  pathos  of  the  theme,  in  horns,  clarinets  and 
violas,  with  rhythmic  strings,  grows  naturally  out  of 
the  mood. 

Plus  anime,  in  subtle  change  of  pace  (from  %  to  %), 
the  episode  begins  with  eccentric  stride  of  harps 

85 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


(and  added  woodwind),  that  serves  as  a  kind  of 

Moderement  Lent, 
mf 


(Melody  in  horns,  clarinets 
and  violas) 


vfj\  fr  b  fi  •*  •  >  >fby — ^ 

^pbESK5=i: 


"^  (Acc'd  in  Irir 
strings)    I    I 


*f 


*=t 


s 


-jr  y        *  -fr 


fcfc 


accompanying  figure  and  foil  for  the  sweeping  song 
of  the  real  second  melody  (in  oboe  solo,  succeeded  by 
the  clarinet). 

(Oboe  Bolo)  _ 


TVea  espress. 


(  Acc't  in  bassoons,  horns,  harps  and  basses) 


In  the  clash  of  themes  and  harmonies  of  the  climax, 
the  very  limits  of  modern  license  seem  to  be  invoked. 
Later  the  three  themes  are  entwined  in  a  passage 
of  masterly  counterpoint. 

There  is  a  touch  of  ancient  harmony  in  the  delicate 
tune  of  third  movement,  which  has  the  virtue  of  end- 

86 


D'INDY  AND  THE  FOLLOWERS  OF  FRANCK 


less  weaving.    It  is  sung  by  solo  violin,  mainly  sup- 
ported by  a  choir  of  lower  strings. 

A  final  conclusive  line  is  given  by  the  solo  flute. 
Besides  the  constant  course  of  varying  tune,  there  is 
a  power  of  ever  changing  harmony  that  seems  to  lie 
in  some  themes. 

Modere     (Viola  Solo) 


mf  Tres  aimplement 


«P 


r 

One  can  hardly  call  it  all  a  Scherzo.  It  is  rather 
an  idyll  after  the  pathos  of  the  Andante.  Or,  from 
another  view,  reversing  the  usual  order,  we  may  find 
the  quality  of  traditional  Trio  in  the  first  melody  and 
a  bacchanale  of  wild  humor  in  the  middle.  For,  out 


animi 


(Woodwind  and  strings) 

of  a  chance  phrase  of  horns  grows  of  all  the  sym- 
phony    the     boldest     harmonic     phrase     (repeated 

87 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

through  ten  bars).  Above  rings  a  barbarous  cry,  in 
defiance  of  common  time  and  rhythm. 

Suddenly  we  are  surprised  by  the  sound  of  the 
martial  stride  of  the  second  theme  of  the  Andante 
which  moves  on  the  sea  of  rough  harmony  as  on  a 
native  element.  One  whim  follows  another.  The 
same  motion  is  all  there,  but  as  if  in  shadow,  in  soft- 
est sound,  and  without  the  jar  of  discord ;  then  comes 
the  fiercest  clash  of  all,  and  now  a  gayest  dance  of  the 
first  tune,  assez  vif,  in  triple  rhythm,  various  figures 
having  their  pas  seul.  A  second  episode  returns, 
brilliant  in  high  pace  but  purged  of  the  former  war 
of  sounds.  At  the  end  is  the  song  of  the  first  tune, 
with  new  pranks  and  sallies. 

The  beginning  of  the  Finale  is  all  in  a  musing 
review  of  past  thoughts.  The  shadow  of  the  last 
tune  lingers,  in  slower  pace;  the  ominous  dirge  of 
first  motto  sounds  below;  the  soothing  melody  of 
the  Andante  sings  a  verse.  In  solemn  fugue  the 
original  motto  is  reared  from  its  timid  phrase  to 
masterful  utterance,  with  splendid  stride.  Or 

Modere  et  solennel 


(Cellos  and  basses) 
rather  the  theme  is  blended  of  the  first  two 
phrases,  merging  their  opposite  characters  in  the 
new  mood  of  resolution.  The  strings  prepare  for  the 
sonorous  entrance  of  woodwind  and  horns.  One  of 
the  greatest  fugal  episodes  of  symphonies,  it  is  yet 

88 


D'INDY  AND  THE  FOLLOWERS  OF  FRANCK 

a  mere  prelude  to  the  real  movement,  where  the  light 
theme  is  drawn  from  a  phrase  of  latest  cadence. 
And  the  dim  hue  of  minor  which  began  the  sym- 
phony, and  all  overspread  the  prelude,  at  last 
yields  to  the  clear  major.  There  is  something  of 
the  struggle  of  shadow  and  light  of  the  great  third 
symphony  of  Brahms. 

The  continuous  round  of  the  theme,  in  its  unstable 
pace  (of  %),  has  a  strange  power  of  motion,  the  feel- 


(Strings) 


ing  of  old  passacaglia.  To  be  sure,  it  is  the  mere 
herald  and  companion  of  the  crowning  tune,  in  solo 
of  the  reeds. 

From  the  special  view  of  structure,  there  is  no 
symphony,  modern  or  classic,  with  such  an  overpower- 
ing combination  and  resolution  of  integral  themes  in 
one  movement.  So  almost  constant  is  the  derivation 
of  ideas,  that  one  feels  they  must  be  all  related. 
Thus,  the  late  rush  of  rhythm,  in  the  Finale,  is 
broken  by  a  quiet  verse  where  with  enchanting  sub- 
tlety we  are  carried  back  somewhere  to  the  idyll  of 
third  movement. 

89 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Above,  rises  another  melody,  and  from  its  simple 
outline  grows  a  fervor  and  pathos  that,  aside  from 
the  basic  themes  of  the  whole  work,  strike  the  main 
feeling  of  the  Finale. 


Un  pen  mains  vite 

" 


US£T} 


*m 


^ 


f 


The  martial  trip  from  the  Andante  joins  later  in 
the  return  of  the  whirling  rhythm.  At  last  the 
motto  strikes  on  high,  but  the  appealing  counter- 
melody  is  not  easily  hushed. 


(Ob.) 
mf 


*Ff 


(Cellos  with  tremolo  violins) 


It  breaks  out  later  in  a  verse  of  exalted  beauty  and 
passion.  The  struggle  of  the  two  ideas  reminds  us 
of  the  Fifth  Symphony.  At  last  the  gloom  of  the 
fateful  motto  is  relieved  by  the  return  of  the  original 
answer,  and  we  seem  to  see  a  new  source  of  latest 
ideas,  so  that  we  wonder  whether  all  the  melodies  are 
but  guises  of  the  motto  and  answer,  which  now  at  the 
close,  sing  in  united  tones  a  hymn  of  peace  and  bliss. 

90 


CHAPTER  IX 
DEBUSSY  AND  THE  IKNWATOKS 

AT  intervals  during  the  course  of  the  art  have 
appeared  the  innovators  and  pioneers, — rebels 
against  the  accepted  manner  and  idiom.  The  mys- 
tery is  that  while  they  seem  necessary  to  progress 
they  seldom  create  enduring  works.  The  shadowy 
lines  may  begin  somewhere  among  the  Hucbalds 
and  other  early  adventurers.  One  of  the  most  strik- 
ing figures  is  Peri,  who  boldly,  almost  impiously, 
abandoned  the  contrapuntal  style,  the  only  one  sanc- 
tioned by  tradition,  and  set  the  dramatic  parts  in 
informal  musical  prose  with  a  mere  strumming  of 
instruments. 

It  is  not  easy  to  see  the  precise  need  of  such  reac- 
tion. The  radical  cause  is  probably  a  kind  of  inertia 
in  all  things  human,  by  which  the  accepted  is  thought 
the  only  way.  Eules  spring  up  that  are  never  wholly 
true ;  at  best  they  are  shifts  to  guide  the  student,  in- 
adequate conclusions  from  past  art.  The  essence  of 
an  art  can  never  be  put  in  formulas.  Else  we  should 
be  content  with  the  verbal  form.  The  best  excuse 
for  the  rule  is  that  it  is  meant  to  guard  the  element 
of  truth  in  art  from  meretricious  pretence. 

And,  we  must  not  forget,  Art  progresses  by  slow 
degrees;  much  that  is  right  in  one  age  could  not 
come  in  an  earlier,  before  the  intervening  step. 

91 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  masters,  when  they  had  won  their  spurs,  were 
ever  restive  under  rules.*  Yet  they  underwent  the 
strictest  discipline,  gaining  early  the  secret  of  expres- 
sion; for  the  best  purpose  of  rules  is  liberation,  not 
restraint.  On  the  other  hand  they  were,  in  the  main, 
essentially  conservative.  Sebastian  Bach  clung  to  the 
older  manner,  disdaining  the  secular  sonata  for  which 
his  son  was  breaking  the  ground. 

The  master  feels  the  full  worth  of  what  has  been 
achieved ;  else  he  has  not  mastered.  He  merely  gives 
a  crowning  touch  of  poetic  message,  while  the  lighter 
mind  is  busy  with  tinkering  of  newer  forms.  For 
the  highest  reaches  of  an  art,  the  poet  must  first  have 
grasped  all  that  has  gone  before.  He  will  not  rebel 
before  he  knows  the  spirit  of  the  law,  nor  spend  him- 
self on  novelty  for  its  own  sake. 

The  line  between  the  Master  and  the  Radical  may 
often  seem  vague.  For,  the  former  has  his  Pro- 

*  Some  of  the  chance  sayings  of  Mozart  (recently  edited 
by  Kerst-Elberf eld )  betray  much  contempt  for  academic 
study :  "  Learning  from  books  is  of  no  account.  Here, 
here,  and  here  (pointing  to  ear,  head,  and  heart)  is  your 
school."  On  the  subject  of  librettists  "  with  their  profes- 
sional tricks,"  he  says :  "  If  we  composers  were  equally 
faithful  to  our  own  rules  (which  were  good  enough  when 
men  knew  no  better),  we  should  turn  out  just  as  poor  a 
quality  in  our  music  as  they  in  their  librettos."  Yet,  else- 
where, he  admits:  "No  one  has  spent  so  much  pains  on 
the  study  of  composition  as  myself.  There  is  hardly  a 
famous  master  in  music  whom  I  have  not  read  through 
diligently  and  often." 

92 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

methean  strokes,  all  unpremeditated,  compelled  by 
the  inner  sequence, — as  when  Beethoven  strikes  the 
prophetic  drum  in  the  grim  Scherzo  of  the  Fifth 
Symphony;  or  in  the  Eroica  when  the  horn  sounds 
sheer  ahead,  out  of  line  with  the  sustaining  chorus; 
or  when  Bach  leaps  to  his  harmonic  heights  in  organ 
fantasy  and  toccata;  or  Mozart  sings  his  exquisite 
clashes  in  the  G  Minor  Symphony. 

As  the  true  poet  begins  by  absorption  of  the  art 
that  he  finds,  his  early  utterance  will  be  imitative. 
His  ultimate  goal  is  not  the  strikingly  new  but  the 
eternally  true.  It  is  a  question  less  of  men  than  of 
a  point  of  view. 

It  seems  sometimes  that  in  art  as  in  politics  two 
parties  are  needed,  one  balancing  the  weaknesses  of 
the  other.  As  certain  epochs  are  overburdened  by 
the  spirit  of  a  past  poet,  so  others  are  marred  by 
the  opposite  excess,  by  a  kind  of  neo-mania.  The 
latter  comes  naturally  as  reaction  from  the  former. 
Between  them  the  poet  holds  the  balance  of  clear 
vision. 

When  Peri  overthrew  the  trammels  of  counter- 
point, in  a  dream  of  Hellenic  revival  of  drama,  he 
could  not  hope  to  write  a  master-work.  Destructive 
rebellion  cannot  be  blended  with  constructive  beauty. 
An  antidote  is  of  necessity  not  nourishment.  Others 
may  follow  the  path-breaker  and  slowly  reclaim  the 
best  of  old  tradition  from  the  new  soil.  The  strange 
part  of  this  rebellion  is  that  it  is  always  marked  by 
the  quality  of  stereotype  which  it  seeks  to  avoid.  This 

93 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

is  an  invariable  symptom.  It  cannot  be  otherwise; 
for  the  rejection  of  existing  art  leaves  too  few  re- 
sources. Moreover,  the  pioneer  has  his  eye  too  exclu- 
sively upon  the  mere  manner. 

A  wholesome  reaction  there  may  be  against  excess. 
When  Gluck  dared  to  move  the  hearts  of  his  hearers 
instead  of  tickling  their  ears,  he  achieved  his  purpose 
by  positive  beauty,  without  actual  loss.  In  this  sense 
every  work  of  art  is  a  work  of  revolution.  So  Wag- 
ner, especially  in  his  earlier  dramas,*  by  sheer  sin- 
cerity and  poetic  directness,  corrected  a  frivolous  tra- 
dition of  opera.  But  when  he  grew  destructive  of 
melody  and  form,  by  theory  and  practice,  he  sank 
to  the  role  of  innovator,  with  pervading  trait  of 
stereotype,  in  the  main  merely  adding  to  the  lesser 
resources  of  the  art.  His  later  works,  though  they 
contain  episodes  of  overwhelming  beauty,  cannot  have 
a  place  among  the  permanent  classics,  alone  by  reason 
of  their  excessive  reiteration. 

One  of  the  most  charming  instances  of  this  icono- 
clasm  is  the  music  of  Claude  Debussy,  f  In  a  way  we 
are  reminded  of  the  first  flash  of  Wagner's  later  man- 
ner: the  same  vagueness  of  tonality,  though  with  a 
different  complexion  and  temper.  Like  the  German, 
Debussy  has  his  own  novel  use  of  instruments.  He 
is  also  a  rebel  against  episodic  melody.  Only,  with 
Wagner  the  stand  was  more  of  theory  than  of  prac- 

*  The   "  Flying  Dutchman,"   "  Lohengrin  "   and   "  Tann- 
hauser  "  seemed  destined  to  survive  Wagner's  later  works. 
fBorn  in  1862. 

94 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

tice.  His  lyric  inspiration  was  here  too  strong; 
otherwise  with  Debussy.  Each  article  of  rebellion 
is  more  highly  stressed  in  the  French  leader,  save  as 
to  organic  form,  where  the  latter  is  far  the  stronger. 
And  finally  the  element  of  mannerism  cannot  be  gain- 
said in  either  composer.* 

Among  the  special  traits  of  Debussy's  harmonic 
manner  is  a  mingling  with  the  main  chord  of  the 
third  below.  There  is  a  building  downward,  as  it 
were.  The  harmony,  complete  as  it  stands,  seeks  a 
lower  foundation  so  that  the  plain  tower  (as  it  looked 
at  first)  is  at  the  end  a  lofty  minaret.  It  is  striking 
that  a  classic  figure  in  French  music  should  have 
stood,  in  the  early  eighteenth  century,  a  champion 
of  this  idea,  to  be  sure  only  in  the  domain  of  theory. 
There  is  a  touch  of  romance  in  the  fate  of  a  pioneer, 
rejected  for  his  doctrine  in  one  age,  taken  up  in  the 
art  of  two  centuries  later,  f 

*  Some  recurring  traits  Wagner  and  Debussy  have  in 
common,  such  as  the  climactic  chord  of  the  ninth.  The 
melodic  appoggiatura  is  as  frequent  in  the  earlier  German 
as  the  augmented  chord  of  the  fifth  in  the  later  Frenchman. 

f  Rameau,  when  the  cyclopaedic  spirit  was  first  stirring 
and  musical  art  was  sounding  for  a  scientific  basis,  insisted 
on  the  element  of  the  third  below,  implying  a  tonic  chord 
of  6,  5,  3.  Here  he  was  opposed  by  Fetis,  Fux  and  other 
theoretic  authority;  judgment  was  definitively  rendered 
against  him  by  contemporary  opinion  and  prevailing  tra- 
dition. It  cannot  be  said  that  the  modern  French  practice 
has  justified  Rameau's  theory,  since  with  all  the  charm  of 
the  enriched  chord,  there  is  ever  a  begging  of  the  question 
of  the  ultimate  root. 

95 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

A  purely  scientific  basis  must  be  shunned  in  any 
direct  approach  of  the  art  whether  critical  or  creative, 
— alone  for  the  fatal  allurement  of  a  separate  re- 
search. The  truth  is  that  a  spirit  of  fantastic  experi- 
ment, started  by  the  mystic  manner  of  a  Cesar 
Franck,  sought  a  sanction  in  the  phenomena  of  acous- 
tics. So  it  is  likely  that  the  enharmonic  process  of 
Franck  led  to  the  strained  use  of  the  whole-tone  scale 
(of  which  we  have  spoken  above)  by  a  further  depar- 
ture from  tonality.*  And  yet,  in  all  truth,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  of  the  delight  of  these  flashes  of  the 
modern  French  poet, — a  delicate  charm  as  beguiling 
as  the  bolder,  warmer  harmonies  of  the  earlier  Ger- 
man. Instead  of  the  broad  exultation  of  Wagner 
there  is  in  Debussy  the  subtle,  insinuating  disso- 
nance. Nor  is  the  French  composer  wanting  in  auda- 
cious strokes.  Once  for  all  he  stood  the  emancipator 
of  the  art  from  the  stern  rule  of  individual  vocal 
procedure.  He  cut  the  Gordian  knot  of  harmonic 
pedagogy  by  the  mere  weapon  of  poetic  elision.  He 
simply  omitted  the  obvious  link  by  a  license  ancient 
in  poetry  and  even  in  prose.  He  devised  in  his  har- 
monies the  paradox,  that  is  the  essence  of  art,  that 
the  necessary  step  somehow  becomes  unnecessary. 

*As  the  lower  overtones,  discovered  by  a  later  science, 
clearly  confirm  the  tonal  system  of  the  major  scale,  slowly 
evolved  in  the  career  of  the  art, — so  the  upper  overtones 
are  said  to  justify  the  whole-tone  process.  At  best  this  is 
a  case  of  the  devil  quoting  scripture.  The  main  recurring 
overtones,  which  are  lower  and  audible,  are  all  in  support 
of  a  clear  prevailing  tonality. 

96 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

Though  Wagner  plunges  without  ceremony  into  his 
languorous  chords,  he  carefully  resolves  their  further 
course.  Debussy  has  them  tumbling  in  headlong 
descent  like  sportive  leviathans  in  his  sea  of  sound. 
Moreover  he  has  broken  these  fetters  of  a  small  punc- 
tilio without  losing  the  sense  of  a  true  harmonic 
sequence.  Nay,  by  the  very  riotous  revel  of  upper 
harmonies  he  has  stressed  the  more  clearly  the  path 
of  the  fundamental  tone.  When  he  enters  the  higher 
sanctuary  of  pure  concerted  voices,  he  is  fully  aware 
of  the  fine  rigor  of  its  rites.  And  finally  his  mis- 
chievous abandon  never  leads  him  to  do  violence  to 
the  profoundest  element  of  the  art,  of  organic  design.* 

"THE  8EA."    THREE  SYMPHONIC  SKETCHES 

I. — From  Dawn  to  Noon  on  the  Sea.  In  awesome 
quiet  of  unsoothing  sounds  we  feel,  over  a  dual  ele- 
mental motion,  a  quick  fillip  as  of  sudden  lapping 
wave,  while  a  shadowy  air  rises  slowly  in  hollow  inter- 
vals. Midst  trembling  whispers  descending  (like  the 

*  In  the  drama  Debussy  avoids  the  question  of  form 
by  treating  the  music  as  mere  scenic  background.  Wagner, 
in  his  later  works,  attempted  the  impossible  of  combining 
a  tonal  with  the  dramatic  plot.  In  both  composers,  to 
carry  on  the  comparison  beyond  the  technical  phase,  is  a 
certain  reaching  for  the  primeval,  in  feeling  as  in  tonality. 
Here  they  are  part  of  a  larger  movement  of  their  age. 
The  subjects  of  their  dramas  are  chosen  from  the  same 
period  of  mediaeval  legend,  strongly  surcharged  in  both  com- 
posers with  a  spirit  of  fatalism  where  tragedy  and  love  are 
indissolubly  blended. 

7  97 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


soughing  wind),  a  strange  note,  as  of  distant  trum- 
pet, strikes  in  gentle  insistence — out  of  the  other 
rhythm — and  blows  a  wailing  phrase.  The  trembling 
whisper  has  sunk  to  lowest  depths.  Still  continues 
the  lapping  of  waves — all  sounds  of  unhuman  nature. 

(Muted  trumpet,  with  Eng.  horns  in  lower  8ve.) 
Very  slowly  


Espresaivo 


(Cellos  with  basses  in  lower  8ve.) 


pupp 


On  quicker  spur  the  shadowy  motive  flits  faster 
here  and  there  in  a  slow  swelling  din  of  whispering, 
to  the  insistent  plash  of  wave.  Suddenly  the  sense  of 
desolation  yields  to  soothing  play  of  waters  —  a  ber- 
ceuse of  the  sea  —  and  now  a  song  sings  softly  (in 
horn),  though  strangely  jarring  on  the  murmuring 
lullaby.  The  soothing  cheer  is  anon  broken  by  a  shift 
of  new  tone.  There  is  a  fluctuation  of  pleasant  and 

98 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

strange  sounds;  a  dulcet  air  on  rapturous  harmony 
is  hushed  by  unfriendly  plash  of  chord. 

Back  again  in  the  quieter  play  of  rhythm  the 
strange,  sweet  song  (of  horns)  returns. 

In  a  ravishing  climax  of  gentle  chorus  of  quick 
plashing  waves  and  swirling  breeze  the  song  sings 
on  and  the  trumpet  blows  its  line  of  tune  to  a  ringing 
phrase  of  the  clarinet. 


(Strings  and  horns) 
ad  lib.  faster        fc^. 


When  this  has  died  down,  the  lapping  waves,  as  in 
concert,  strike  in  full  chord  that  spreads  a  hue  of 
warmth,  as  of  the  first  peep  of  sun.  It  is  indeed  as 
though  the  waves  rose  towards  the  sun  with  a  glow 
of  welcome. 

In  the  wake  of  the  first  stirring  shock  is  a  host  of 
soft  cheering  sounds  of  bustling  day,  like  a  choir 
of  birds  or  bells.  The  eager  madrigal  leads  to  a  final 
blast  (with  acclaiming  chorus  of  big  rocking  waves), 
echoed  in  golden  notes  of  the  horns.  One  slight  touch 
has  heightened  the  hue  to  warmest  cheer;  but  once 
do  we  feel  the  full  glow  of  risen  sun. 

99 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  chilling  shadows  return,  as  the  wistful  air  of 
hushed  trumpet  sounds  again.  We  hover  between 
flashes  of  warming  sun,  until  the  waves  have  abated ; 
in  soothing  stillness  the  romantic  horn  *  sings  a 
lay  of  legend. 

Now  to  friendly  purling  of  playful  wavelets,  the 
sea  moves  in  shifting  harmonies.  In  sudden  climax 
the  motion  of  the  waves  fills  all  the  brass  in  triumph- 
ant pagan,  in  the  gleam  of  high  noon. 

//. — Play  of  the  Waves.  There  is  a  poetic  back- 
ground as  for  the  play  of  legend.  We  seem  to  be 
watching  the  sea  from  a  window  in  the  castle  of 
Pelleas.  For  there  is  a  touch  of  dim  romance  in  a 
phrase  of  the  clarinet. 

The  movement  of  waves  is  clear,  and  the  uncon- 
scious concert  of  sea-sounds,  the  deeper  pulse  of  ocean 
(in  the  horns),  the  flowing  ripples,  the  sharp  dash 
of  lighter  surf  (in  the  Glockenspiel),  all  with  a 
constant  tremor,  an  instability  of  element  (in  trem- 
bling strings).  We  cannot  help  feeling  the  illusion 
of  scene  in  the  impersonal  play  of  natural  sounds. 
Anon  will  come  a  shock  of  exquisite  sweetness  that 
must  have  something  of  human.  And  then  follows  a 
resonant  clash  with  spray  of  colliding  seas. 

Here  the  story  of  the  waves  begins,  and  there  are 
clearly  two  roles. 

To  light  lapping  and  cradling  of  waters  the  wood 
sings  the  simple  lay,  while  strings  discourse  in  quicker, 

*  English  horn. 

100 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 


higher  phrase.     The  parts  are  reversed.     A  shower 
of  chilling  wave  (in  gliding  harps)  breaks  the  thread. 


(Highest  and  lowest  figure  in  strings. 
Middle  voices  in  octaves  of  wood) 

Now  golden   tones    (of   horns)    sound   a   mystic 
tale  of  one  of  the  former  figures.     The  scene  shim- 

(With  rhythmic  harps  and  strings) 
(Flutes) 


(Horns) 


mers  in  sparkling,  glinting  waters  (with  harp  and 

trilling  wood  and  strings).    But  against  the  soothing 

101 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

background  the  story  (of  English  horn)  has  a  chill, 
ominous  strain. 

With  the  returning  main  song  comes  the  passionate 
crisis,  and  we  are  back  in  the  mere  plash  and  play  of 
impersonal  waves. 

On  dancing  ripples,  a  nixie  is  laughing  to  echoing 
horns  and  lures  us  back  to  the  story. 


(Strings  with  lower  8ve.) 


Later,  it  seems,  two  mermaids  sing  in  twining 
duet.  In  a  warm  hue  of  light  the  horns  sound  a 
weird  tale.  It  is  taken  up  by  teasing  chorus  of 
lighter  voices.  In  the  growing  volume  sounds  a 
clear,  almost  martial  call  of  the  brass. 

In  a  new  shade  of  scene  we  recover  the  lost  burden 
of  song;  the  original  figures  appear  (in  the  slower  air 
of  trembling  strings  and  the  quicker  play  of  reed, 
harp  and  bells),  and  wander  through  ever  new, 
moving  phases.  A  shower  of  chords  (in  strings  and 
shaking  brass)  brings  back  the  ominous  melody, 
amidst  a  chorus  of  light  chatter,  but  firmly  resting 
102 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 


on  a  warm  background  of  harmony.  And  the  strain 
roves  on  generous  path  and  rises  out  of  all  its  gloom 
to  a  burst  of  profound  cheer. 


(let  violins  with  lower  8ve.) 


(2d  violins;  percussion 
with  cellos  below) 


(Harps  with  violas) 
(Flutes  with  higher  8ve 

mmn  IT 

«  -ff^-r-f-  J  ^  ^ 


J^Lm 


(See  page  104,  line  11.) 

As  in  all  fairy  tales,  the  scene  quickly  vanishes.  On 
dancing  rays  and  ripples  is  the  laughing  nixie;  but 
suddenly  breaks  the  first  song  of  the  main  figures. 
A  climactic  phrase  of  trumpets  ends  with  a  burst  of 
all  the  chorus  on  stirring  harmony,  where  in  dimin- 
ishing strokes  of  bells  long  rings  the  melodic  note. 
103 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

The  teasing  motive  of  the  nixie  returns  while  the 
trumpet  sounds  a  shadowy  echo  of  its  phrase,  again 
to  dying  peal  of  bells.  A  chorus  of  eerie  voices  sing 
the  mocking  air,  and  again  sounds  the  refrain  of 
trumpet  as  in  rebuke.  On  a  tumult  of  teasing  cries 
flashes  a  delivering  burst  of  brilliant  light,  and  we 
are  back  in  the  first  scene  of  the  story.  Only  the 
main  figure  is  absent.  And  there  is  in  the  eager 
tension  of  pace  a  quivering  between  joy  and  doubt. 
Then,  in  answer  to  the  lighter  phrase  of  the  other,  is 
the  returning  figure  with  a  new  song  now  of  blended 
longing  and  content  that  soars  into  higher  flights 
until  a  mighty  chorus  repeats  the  strain  that  rises  to 
triumphant  height  of  joy  and  transforms  the  mock- 
ing motive  to  the  same  mood. 

But  it  is  all  a  play  of  the  waves.  And  we  are  left 
once  more  to  the  impersonal  scene  where  yet  the 
fragrance  of  legend  hovers  over  the  dying  harmonies. 

777. — Dialogue  of  the  Wind  and  the  Sea,  Tu- 
multuous is  the  humor  of  the  beginning ;  early  sounds 
the  stroke  of  wave  of  the  first  hour  of  the  sea.  The 
muted  trumpet  blows  a  strain  (to  trembling  strings) 
that  takes  us  back  to  the  first  (quoted)  tune  of  the 
symphony  in  the  wistful  mood  of  dawn.  For  a 
symphony  it  proves  to  be  in  the  unity  of  themes  and 
thought.  Now  unmuted  and  unrestrained  in  con- 
flict of  crashing  chords,  the  trumpet  blows  again  the 
motto  of  the  roving  sea.  In  various  figures  is  the 
104 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

pelagic  motion,  in  continuous  coursing  strings,  in  the 
sweeping  phrase  of  the  wood-wind,  or  in  the  original 
wave-motion  of  the  horns,  now  unmuted.  • 
The  main  burden  is  a  plaint 

(Woodwind  in  lower  octaves 
and  touches  of  horns) 
(Animate)  poco  rit. 


1  • 
(Strings  in  higher  and  lower  octaves) 

(in  the  wood)  against  the  insistent  surge  (of 
strings),  on  a  haunting  motive  as  of  farewell  or  even- 
tide, with  much  stress  of  pathos.  It  is  sung  in  sus- 
tained duet  against  a  constant  churning  figure  of 
the  sea,  and  it  is  varied  by  a  dulcet  strain  that  grows 
out  of  the  wave-motive. 

Indeed,  the  whole  movement  is  complementary  of 
the  first,  the  obverse  as  it  were.  The  themes  are  of 
the  same  text;  the  hue  and  mood  have  changed  from 
the  spring  of  dawn  to  the  sadness  of  dusk.  The  sym- 
bol of  noontide  peace  reappears  with  minor  tinge, 
at  the  hush  of  eve.  The  climactic  motive  of  the  sea 
acclaiming  the  rising  sun  is  there,  but  reversed. 

The  sea  too  has  the  same  tempestuous  motion  (in- 
105 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

deed,  the  plaintive  song  is  mainly  of  the  wind) ,  unre- 
strained by  the  sadder  mood.  At  the  passionate 
climax,  where  the  higher  figure  sinks  toward  the  ris- 
ing lower,  it  is  as  if  the  Wind  kissed  the  Sea. 

The  concluding  scene  begins  as  in  the  first  move- 
ment, save  with  greater  extension  of  expressive  mel- 
ody. And  the  poignant  note  has  a  long  song  against 
a  continuous  rippling  (of  harps). 

More  elemental  figures  crowd  the  scene;  the  first 
melody  (of  trumpet)  has  a  full  verse,  and  the  dulcet 
phrase  (of  wave-motive). 

Toward  the  end  the  plaintive  song  has  an  ever- 
growing chorus  of  acclaiming  voices.  In  the  fever 
of  united  coursing  motion  the  phrase  loses  the  touch 
of  sadness  until  in  eager,  spirited  pace,  as  of  gallop- 
ing steeds,  it  ends  with  a  shout  of  victory. 

DUKAS.     "THE  SORCERER'S  APPRENTICE" 

Chief  among  the  companions  of  Claude  Debussy 
in  his  adventures  is  Paul  Dukas.*  Though  he  lags 
somewhat  in  bold  flights  of  harmonies,  he  shows 
a  clearer  vein  of  melody  and  rhythm,  and  he  has 
an  advantage  in  a  greater  freedom  from  the  rut  of 
repeated  device. 

It  is  somehow  in  the  smaller  forms  that  the  French 
composer  finds  the  trenchant  utterance  of  his  fancy. 
A  Scherzo,  after  the  ballad  of  Goethe,  "  The  Sor- 
cerer's Apprentice,"  tells  the  famous  story  of  the 
boy  who  in  his  master's  absence  compels  the  spirit  in 

*  Born  in  1865. 

106 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

the  broom  to  fetch  the  water;  but  he  cannot  say  the 
magic  word  to  stop  the  flood,  although  he  cleaves  the 
demon-broom  in  two. 

After  the  title-page  of  the  score  is  printed  a  prose 
version  (by  Henri  Blaze)  of  Goethe's  ballad,  "  Der 
Zauberlehrling." 

Of  several  translations  the  following,  by  Bowring, 
seems  the  best : 

THE  SORCERER'S  APPRENTICE 

I  am  now, — what  joy  to  hear  it! — 

Of  the  old  magician  rid; 
And  henceforth  shall  ev'ry  spirit 
Do  whate'er  by  me  is  bid: 
I  have  watch'd  with  rigor 

All  he  used  to  do, 
And  will  now  with  vigor 
Work  my  wonders,  too. 

Wander,  wander 

Onward  lightly, 

So  that  rightly 

Flow  the  torrent, 
And  with  teeming  waters  yonder 
In  the  bath  discharge  its  current! 

And  now  come,  thou  well-worn  broom, 

And  thy   wretched  form   bestir; 
Thou  hast  ever  served  as  groom, 
So  fulfil  my  pleasure,  sir! 
On  two  legs  now  stand 
With  a  head  on  top; 
Water  pail  in  hand, 

Haste  and  do  not  stop! 

107 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Wander,  wander 

Onward  lightly, 

So  that  rightly 

Flow  the  torrent, 
And  with  teeming  waters  yonder 
In  the  bath  discharge  its  current! 

See!  he's  running  to  the  shore, 

And  has  now  attain'd  the  pool, 
And  with  lightning  speed  once  more 
Comes  here,  with  his  bucket  full ! 
Back  he  then  repairs; 

See  how  swells  the  tide! 
How  each  pail  he  bears 
Straightway  is  supplied! 

Stop,  for  lo! 

All  the  measure 

Of  thy  treasure 

Now  is  right! 
Ah,  I  see  it!  woe,  oh,  woe! 
I  forget  the  word  of  might. 

Ah,  the  word  whose  sound  can  straight 

Make  him  what  he  was  before! 
Ah,  he  runs  with  nimble  gait! 

Would  thou  wert  a  broom  once  more! 
Streams  renew'd  forever 

Quickly  bringeth  he; 
River  after  river 

Rusheth  on  poor  me! 

Now  no  longer 

Can  I  bear  him, 

I  will  snare  him, 

Knavish  sprite! 

Ah,  my  terror   waxes   stronger! 
What  a  look!  what  fearful  sight! 
108 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

Oh,  thou  villain  child  of  hell! 

Shall  the  house  through  thee  be  drown'd? 
Floods  I  see  that  widely  swell, 

O'er  the  threshold  gaining  ground. 
Wilt  thou  not  obey, 

O  thou  broom  accurs'd! 
Be  thou  still,  I  pray, 
As  thou  wert  at  first! 

Will  enough 

Never  please  thee? 

I  will  seize  thee, 

Hold  thee  fast, 

And  thy  nimble  wood  so  tough 
With  my  sharp  axe  split  at  last. 

See,  once  more  he  hastens  back! 

Now,  O  Cobold,  thou  shalt  catch  it! 
I  will  rush  upon  his  track; 

Crashing  on  him  falls  my  hatchet. 
Bravely  done,  indeed! 

See,  he's  cleft  in  twain! 

Now  from  care  I'm  freed, 

And  can  breathe  again. 

Woe   oh,  woe! 

Both  the  parts, 

Quick  as  darts, 

Stand  on  end, 

Servants  of  my  dreaded  foe! 
0  ye  gods,  protection  send! 

And  they  run!  and  wetter  still 
Grow  the  steps  and  grows  the  hall. 
Lord  and  master,  hear  me  call! 

Ever  seems  the  flood  to  fill. 
109 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Ah,  he's  coining!  see, 

Great  is  my  dismay! 
Spirits  raised  by    me 

Vainly  would  I  layli 

"To  the  side 

Of  the  room 

Hasten,  broom, 

As  of  old! 

Spirits  I  have  ne'er  untied 
Save  to  act  as  they  are  told." 

In  paragraphs  are  clearly  pointed  the  episodes :  the 
boy's  delight  at  finding  himself  alone  to  conjure  the 
spirits;  the  invocation  to  the  water,  recurring  later 
as  refrain  (which  in  the  French  is  not  addressed  to 
the  spirit) ;  then  the  insistent  summons  of  the  spirit 
in  the  broom ;  the  latter^  obedient  course  to  the  river 
and  his  oft-repeated  fetching  of  the  water;  the  boy's 
call  to  him  to  stop, — he  has  forgotten  the  formula; 
his  terror  over  the  impending  flood;  he  threatens  in 
his  anguish  to  destroy  the  broom ;  he  calls  once  more 
to  stop;  the  repeated  threat;  he  cleaves  the  spirit  in 
two  and  rejoices;  he  despairs  as  two  spirits  are 
now  adding  to  the  flood ;  he  invokes  the  master  who 
returns ;  the  master  dismisses  the  broom  to  the  corner. 

There  is  the  touch  of  magic  in  the  first  harmonics 
of  strings,  and  the  sense  of  sorcery  is  always  sustained 
in  the  strange  harmonies.* 

*  The  flageolet  tones  of  the  strings  seem  wonderfully 
designed  in  their  ghostly  sound  for  such  an  aerial  touch. 
Dukas  uses  them  later  in  divided  violins,  violas  and  cellos, 
having  thus  a  triad  of  harmonics  doubled  in  the  octave. 

The  remaining  instruments  are:  Piccolo,  2  flutes,  2  oboes, 

110 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

After  a  mystic  descent  of  eerie  chords,  a  melodious 
cooing  phrase  begins  in  higher  wood,  echoed  from 
one  voice  to  the  other,  while  the  spirit-notes  are  still 
sounding. 

Suddenly  dashes  a  stream  of  descending  spray,  met 
by  another  ascending;  in  the  midst  the  first  phrase 
is  rapidly  sounded  (in  muted  trumpet).  As  sud- 
denly the  first  solemn  moment  has  returned,  the 
phrase  has  grown  in  melody,  while  uncanny  harmon- 
ies prevail.  Amidst  a  new  feverish  rush  a  call  rings 

(Wood  andpizz.  strings) 
con  Sve 


(Horns  and  trumpets) 


loud  and  oft  (in  trumpets  and  horns)  ending  in  an 
insistent,  furious  summons.  The  silence  that  en- 
sues is  as  speaking  (or  in  its  way  as  deafening)  as 
were  the  calls. 

After  what  seems  like  the  grating  of  ancient  joints, 
set  in  reluctant  motion,  the  whole  tune  of  the  first 
wooing  phrase  moves  in  steady  gait,  in  comic  bas- 
soons, to  the  tripping  of  strings,  further  and  fuller 
extended  as  other  voices  join.  The  beginning  phrase 

2  clarinets,  baas-clarinet,  3  bassoons,  contra-bassoon  (or 
contra-bass  sarrusophon ) ;  4  horns,  2  trumpets  ( often 
muted) ;  2  cornets-a-pistons ;  3  trombones;  3  kettle-drums; 
harp;  glockenspiel;  big  drum,  cymbals  a/vd  triangle. 

Ill 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


of  chords  recurs  as  answer.  Ever  the  lumbering  trip 
continues,  with  strange  turn  of  harmony  and  color, 
followed  ever  by  the  weird  answer.  A  fuller  appari- 
tion comes  with  the  loud,  though  muffled  tones  of 
the  trumpets.  The  original  tune  grows  in  new  turns 
and  folds  of  melody,  daintily  tipped  with  the  ring  of 
bells  over  the  light  tones  of  the  wood.  The  brilliant 


Vivace 


(Melody  in  2 
3  bassoons) 
mf  ', 


--t       - 


(Acc't  in  pizz.  strings) 

harp  completes  the  chorus  of  hurrying  voices.  Now 
with  full  power  and  swing  the  main  notes  ring  in 
sturdy  brass,  while  all  around  is  a  rushing  and  swirl- 
ing (of  harps  and  bells  and  wood  and  strings).  And 
still  more  furious  grows  the  flight,  led  by  the  unison 
violins. 

A  mischievous  mood  of  impish  frolic  gives  a  new 
turn  of  saucy  gait.  In  the  jovial  answer,  chorussed 
in  simple  song,  seems  a  revel  of  all  the  spirits  of 
rivers  and  streams. 

At  the  top  of  a  big  extended  period  the  trumpet 
sends  a  shrill  defiant  blast. 

But  it  is  not  merely  in  power  and  speed, — more 
in  an  infinite  variety  of  color,  and  whim  of  tune  and 
112 


DEBUSSY  AND  THE  INNOVATORS 

rhythmic  harmony,  that  is  expressed  the  full  gamut 
of  disporting  spirits.  Later,  at  fastest  speed  of  trip- 
ping harp  and  wood,  the  brass  ring  out  that  first, 
insistent  summons,  beneath  the  same  eerie  harmonies 
— and  the  uncanny  descending  chords  answer  as 
before.  But  alas!  the  summons  will  not  work  the 
other  way.  Despite  the  forbidding  command  and  all 
the  other  exorcising  the  race  goes  madly  on. 

And  now,  if  we  are  intent  on  the  story,  we  may  see 
the  rising  rage  of  the  apprentice  and  at  last  the  fatal 
stroke  that  seemingly  hems  and  almost  quells  the 
flood.  But  not  quite!  Slowly  (as  at  first)  the 
hinges  start  in  motion.  And  now,  new  horror! 
Where  there  was  one,  there  are  now  two  ghostly  fig- 
ures scurrying  to  redoubled  disaster.  Again  and 
again  the  stern  call  rings  out,  answered  by  the  wildest 
tumult  of  all.  The  shouts  for  the  master's  aid  seem 
to  turn  to  shrieks  of  despair.  At  last  a  mighty  call 
o'ermasters  and  stills  the  storm.  Nothing  is  heard 
but  the  first  fitful  phrases;  now  they  seem  mere 
echoes,  instead  of  forewarnings.  We  cannot  fail  to 
see  the  fine  parallel,  how  the  masterful  command  is 
effective  as  was  the  similar  call  at  the  beginning. 

Significantly  brief  is  the  ending,  at  once  of  the 
story  and  of  the  music.  In  the  brevity  lies  the  point 
of  the  plot:  in  the  curt  dismissal  of  the  humbled 
spirit,  at  the  height  of  his  revel,  to  his  place  as 
broom  in  the  corner.  Wistful  almost  is  the  slow 
vanishing  until  the  last  chords  come  like  the  breaking 
of  a  fairy  trance. 

8  113 


CHAPTER  X 

TSCHAIKOWSKY 

THE  Byron  of  music  is  Tschaikowsky  for  a  certain 
alluring  melancholy  and  an  almost  uncanny 
flow  and  sparkle.  His  own  personal  vein  deepened 
the  morbid  tinge  of  his  national  humor. 

We  cannot  ignore  the  inheritance  from  Liszt,  both 
spiritual  and  musical.  More  and  more  does  the  Hun- 
garian loom  up  as  an  overmastering  influence  of  his 
own  and  a  succeeding  age.  It  seems  as  if  Liszt,  not 
Wagner,  was  the  musical  prophet  who  struck  the  rock 
of  modern  pessimism,  from  which  flowed  a  stream  of 
ravishing  art.  The  national  current  in  Tschaikow- 
sky's  music  was  less  potent  than  with  his  younger 
compatriots;  or  at  least  it  lay  farther  beneath  the 
surface. 

For  nationalism  in  music  has  two  very  different 
bearings.  The  concrete  elements  of  folk-song, 
rhythm  and  scale,  as  they  are  more  apparent,  are  far 
less  important.  The  true  significance  lies  in  the 
motive  of  an  unexpressed  national  idea  that  presses 
irresistibly  towards  fulfilment.  Here  is  the  main 
secret  of  the  Russian  achievement  in  modern  music, — 
as  of  other  nations  like  the  Finnish.  It  is  the  cause 
that  counts.  Though  Eussian  song  has  less  striking 
114 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

traits  than  Hungarian  or  Spanish,  it  has  blossomed 
in  a  far  richer  harvest  of  noble  works  of  art. 

Facile,  fluent,  full  of  color,  Tschaikowsky  seems 
equipped  less  for  subjective  than  for  lyric  and  dra- 
matic utterance,  as  in  his  "  Komeo  and  Juliet "  over- 
ture. In  the  "  Manfred  "  Symphony  we  may  see  the 
most  fitting  employment  of  his  talent.  Nor  is  it 
unlikely  that  the  special  correspondence  of  treatment 
and  subject  may  cause  this  symphony  to  survive  the 
others,  may  leave  it  long  a  rival  of  Schumann's 
"  Manfred  "  music. 

With  Tschaikowsky  feeling  is  always  highly 
stressed,  never  in  a  certain  natural  poise.  He  quite 
lacks  the  noble  restraint  of  the  masters  who,  in  their 
symphonic  lyrics,  wonderfully  suggest  the  still  waters 
that  run  deep. 

Feeling  with  Tschaikowsky  was  frenzy,  violent  pas- 
sion, so  that  with  all  abandon  there  is  a  touch  of 
the  mechanical  in  his  method.  Emotion  as  the  con- 
tent of  highest  art  must  be  of  greater  depth  and  more 
quiet  flow.  And  it  is  part  or  a  counterpart  of  an 
hysterical  manner  that  it  reacts  to  a  cold  and  im- 
passive mood, — such  as  we  feel  in  the  Andante  of  the 
Fourth  Symphony. 

The  final  quality  for  symphonic  art  is,  after  all, 
less  the  chance  flash  of  inspiration  than  a  big  view, 
a  broad  sympathy,  a  deep  well  of  feeling  that  comes 
only  with  great  character. 

Nay,  there  is  a  kind  of  peril  in  the  symphony  for 
the  poet  of  uncertain  balance  from  the  betrayal  of  his 
115 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

own  temper  despite  his  formal  plan.  Through  all  the 
triumph  of  a  climax  as  in  the  first  movement  of  the 
Fourth  Symphony,  we  may  feel  a  subliminal  sadness 
that  proves  how  subtle  is  the  expression  in  music  of 
the  subjective  mood.  There  is  revealed  not  the  feel- 
ing the  poet  is  conscious  of,  but,  below  this,  his  pres- 
ent self,  and  in  the  whole  series  of  his  works,  his  own 
personal  mettle.  What  the  poet  tries  to  say  is  very 
different  from  what  he  does  say.  In  a  symphony,  as 
in  many  a  frolic,  the  tinge  of  latent  melancholy  will 
appear. 

SYMPHONY  NO.  4 

Reverting  to  a  great  and  fascinating  question  as  to 
the  content  of  art,  we  may  wonder  whether  this  is 
not  the  real  tragic  symphony  of  Tschaikowsky,  in  the 
true  heroic  sense,  in  a  view  where  the  highest  tragedy 
is  not  measured  by  the  wildest  lament.  There  may 
be  a  stronger  sounding  of  lower  depths  with  a  firmer 
touch  (with  less  of  a  conscious  kind  of  abandon),  — 
whence  the  recoil  to  serene  cheer  will  be  the  greater. 

There  is  surely  a  magnificent  aspiration  in  the 
first  Allegro,  a  profound  knell  of  destiny  and  a  rare 
ring  of  triumph.  Underlying  all  is  the  legend  of 
trumpets,  Andante  sostenuto  (%),  with  a  dim  touch 

Andante  sostenuto 
ff 


(Horns  and  bassoons  doubled  in  8va.) 
116 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


of  tragedy.  Opposite  in  feeling  is  the  descending 
motive  of  strings,  Moderato  con  anima  (%).  First 
gently  expressive,  it  soon  rises  in  passion  (the  original 


+s 


Moderato  con  anima  (  1  —  in  movimento  di  valse) 


(Strings  and  one  horn,  the  melody  doubled  below) 


motto  always  sounding)  to  a  climax  whence  an 
ascending  motive,  in  lowest  basses,  entering  in  man- 
ner of  fugue,  holds  a  significant  balance  with  the 
former.  Each  in  turn  rears  a  climax  for  the  other's 


(Horns  doubled  below) 


m 


p 


poco  cresc. 


s  1    -v 


¥^ 


PTT 


~N 


o'"  '  i/  i  j         '  ^  La 

^^s  ^^^ 

(Cellos  and  bassoons)   cresc> 


entrance;  the  first,  lamenting,  leads  to  the  soothing 
hope  of  the  second  that,  in  the  very  passion  of  its 
refrain,  loses  assurance  and  ends  in  a  tragic  burst. 
Suddenly  a  very  new  kind  of  solace  appears  Dolce 
117 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

grazioso,  in  a  phrase  of  the  clarinet  that  leads  to  a 
duet  of  wood  and  cantabile  strings,  impersonal 
almost  in  the  sweetness  of  its  flowing  song. 

Moderate  assai 
(Oboe  doubled  in  flute 


In  such  an  episode  we  have  a  new  Tschaikowsky, — 
no  longer  the  subjective  poet,  but  the  painter  with  a 
certain  Oriental  luxuriance  and  grace.  It  is  interest- 
ing to  study  the  secret  of  this  effect.  The  preluding 
strain  lowers  the  tension  of  the  storm  of  feeling  and 
brings  us  to  the  attitude  of  the  mere  observer.  The 
"  movement  of  waltz  "  now  has  a  new  meaning,  as  of 
an  apparition  in  gently  gliding  dance.  The  step  is 
just  sustained  in  leisurely  strings.  Above  is  the  sim- 
ple melodic  trip  of  clarinet,  where  a  final  run  is 
echoed  throughout  the  voices  of  the  wood;  a  slower 
moving  strain  in  low  cellos  suggests  the  real  song 
that  presently  begins,  while  high  in  the  wood  the 
lighter  tune  continues.  The  ripples  still  keep  spread- 
ing throughout  the  voices,  at  the  end  of  a  line.  The 
tunes  then  change  places,  the  slower  singing  above. 

With  all  the  beauty,  there  is  the  sense  of  shadowy 
picture, — a  certain  complete  absence  of  passion.  Now 
the  lower  phrase  appears  in  two  companion  voices  (of 
118 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


strings),  a  hymnal  kind  of  duet, — ben  sostenuto  il 
tempo  precedente.  Here,  very  softly  in  the  same 
timid  pace,  enters  a  chorus,  on  high,  of  the  old  sigh- 
ing motive.  Each  melody  breaks  upon  the  other  and 


(Strings) 


(Woodwind  doubled  above) 


(Pfi  Kettle-drums) 

ceases,  with  equal  abruptness.  There  is  no  blending, 
in  the  constant  alternation,  until  the  earlier  (lament- 
ing) motive  conquers  and  rises  to  a  new  height  where 
a  culminating  chorale  sounds  a  big  triumph,  while  the 
sighing  phrase  merely  spurs  a  new  verse  of  assurance. 
(Strings  and  flutes) 


fff  (Doubled  above  and  below) 

A  completing  touch  lies  in  the  answering  phrase  of 
the  chorale,  where  the  answer  of  original  motto  is 
transformed  into  a  masterful  ring  of  cheer  and 
confidence. 

As  is  the  way  with  symphonies,  it  must  all  be  sung 

and  striven  over  again  to  make  doubly  sure.     Only 

there  is  never  the  same  depth  of  lament  after  the 

triumph.  In  a  later  verse  is  an  augmented  song  of  the 

119 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

answer  of  trumpet  legend,  in  duet  of  thirds,  in  slow, 
serene  pace,  while  the  old  lament  sounds  below  in  tran- 
quil echoes  and  united  strains.  Before  the  end,  molto 
piu  vivace,  the  answer  rings  in  new  joyous  rhythm. 

Somewhat  the  reverse  of  the  first  movement,  in 
the  second  the  emotional  phase  grows  slowly  from  the 
naive  melody  of  the  beginning.  Against  the  main 
melody  that  begins  in  oboe  solo  (with  pizzicato 
strings),  semplice  ma  grazioso,  plays  later  a  rising 

Andantino  in  modo  di  canzone 
j     (Clarinet  with  lower  8ve.) 


(Bassoons,  with^nzz.  basses) 

counter-theme  that  may  recall  an  older  strain.  The 
second  melody,  in  Greek  mode,  still  does  not  depart 
(Strings,  wood  and  horns) 


120 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


from  the  naive  mood,  or  lack  of  mood.  A  certain 
modern  trait  is  in  this  work,  when  the  feeling  vents 
and  wastes  itself  and  yields  to  an  impassive  recoil, 
more  coldly  impersonal  than  the  severest  classic. 

A  sigh  at  the  end  of  the  second  theme  is  a  first 
faint  reminder  of  the  original  lament.  Of  it  is  fash- 
ioned the  third  theme.  A  succeeding  climax  strongly 

Piu  motto 
*/      (Clarinet  doubled  below  in  bassoons) 


r. 

(Strings) 


brings  back  the  subjective  hue  of  the  earlier  sym- 
phony. A  counter-theme,  of  the  text  of  the  second 
melody  of  Allegro, — now  one  above,  now  the  other — 
is  a  final  stroke.  Even  the  shaking  of  the  trumpet 
figure  is  there  at  the  height,  in  all  the  brass.  Yet 
as  a  whole  the  first  melody  prevails,  with  abundant 
variation  of  runs  in  the  wood  against  the  song  of  the 
strings. 

The  Scherzo  seems  a  masterly  bit  of  humor,  impish, 

if  you  will,  yet  on  the  verge  always  of  tenderness. 

The  first  part  is  never-failing  in  the  flash  and  sparkle 

of  its  play,  all  in  'pizzicato  strings,  with  a  wonderful 

121 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

daemonic  quality   of  the   mere   instrumental   effect. 
Somewhat  suddenly  the  oboe  holds  a  long  note  and 

Pizzicato  ostinato 
Scherzo  Allegro 


(Pizzicato  sempre) 

then,  with  the  bassoons,  has  a  tune  that  is  almost 
sentimental.    But  presently  the  clarinets  make  mock- 
( Oboes  and  bassoons) 


ing  retorts.  Here,  in  striking  scene,  all  the  brass 
(but  the  tuba)  very  softly  blow  the  first  melody  with 
eccentric  halts,  in  just  half  the  old  pace  except  when 
they  take  us  by  surprise.  The  clarinet  breaks  in 
with  the  sentimental  tune  in  faster  time  while  the 
brass  all  the  while  are  playing  as  before.  There  are 
all  kinds  of  pranks,  often  at  the  same  time.  The  pic- 
122 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


colo,  in  highest  treble,  inverts  the  second  melody,  in 
impertinent  drollery.  The  brass  has  still  newer 
surprises.  Perhaps  the  best  of  the  fooling  is  where 
strings  below  and  woodwind  above  share  the  melody 
between  them,  each  taking  two  notes  at  a  time. 

The  first  of  the  Finale  is  pure  fanfare,  as  if  to 
let  loose  the  steeds  of  war;  still  it  recurs  as  leading 
idea.  There  is  a  kind  of  sonorous  terror,  increased 
by  the  insistent,  regular  notes  of  the  brass,  the 
spirited  pace  of  the  motive  of  strings, — the  barbaric 
ring  we  often  hear  in  Slav  music.  At  the  height 

Allegro  con  fuoco 
(Wood  doubled  above  and  below) 

(Violins) 


(Pizz.  strings) 

the  savage  yields  to  a  more  human  vein  of  joyousness, 

though  at  the  end  it  rushes  the  more  wildly  into  a 

,        Tutti 


(Doubled  above  and  below) 
123 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

series  of  shrieks  of  trebles  with  tramping  of  basses. 
The  real  battle  begins  almost  with  a  lull,  the  mere 
sound  of  the  second  tune  in  the  reeds  with  light 
strum  of  strings  and  triangle.  As  the  theme  is 
redoubled  (in  thirds  of  the  wood),  the  sweep  of 
strings  of  the  first  motive  is  added,  with  chords  of 
horns.  A  rising  figure  is  now  opposed  to  the  descent 
of  the  second  melody,  with  shaking  of  woodwind  that 
brings  back  the  old  trumpet  legend.  Here  the  storm 
grows  apace,  with  increasing  tumult  of  entering  hos- 
tile strains,  the  main  song  now  ringing  in  low  brass. 
In  various  versions  and  changes  we  seem  to  see 
earlier  themes  briefly  reappearing.  Indeed  there  is 
a  striking  kinship  of  themes  throughout,  not  so  much 
in  outline  as  in  the  air  and  mood  of  the  tunes.  This 
seems  to  be  proven  by  actual  outer  resemblance  when 
the  motives  are  developed.  Here  in  a  quiet  spot — 
though  the  battle  has  clearly  not  ceased — is  the 
answer  of  old  trumpet  motto,  that  pervaded  the  first 
Allegro.  There  is  a  strong  feeling  of  the  Scherzo 
here  in  the  pizzicato  answers  of  strings.  The  second 
theme  of  the  Andante  is  recalled,  too,  in  the  strokes 
of  the  second  of  the  Finale.  In  the  thick  of  the  fray 
is  a  wonderful  maze  of  versions  of  the  theme,  dimin- 
ished and  augmented  at  the  same  time  with  the  orig- 
inal pace.  Yet  it  is  all  a  clear  flow  of  melody  and  rich 
harmony.  The  four  beats  of  quarter  notes,  in  the 
lengthened  theme,  come  as  high  point  like  the  figure 
of  the  leader  in  battle.  A  later  play  of  changes  is 
like  the  sport  of  the  Scherzo.  This  insensibly  leads 
124 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

to  the  figure  of  the  fanfare,  whence  the  earlier  song 
returns  with  the  great  joyous  march. 

The  final  height  of  climax  is  distinguished  by  a 
stentorian,  fugal  blast  of  the  theme  in  the  bass,  the 
higher  breaking  in  on  the  lower,  while  other  voices 
are  raging  on  the.  quicker  phrases.  It  is  brought  to 
a  dramatic  halt  by  the  original  prelude  of  trumpet 
legend,  in  all  its  fulness.  Though  the  march-song 
recurs,  the  close  is  in  the  ruder  humor  of  the  main 
themes. 

THE  "MANFRED"  SYMPHONY 
Schumann  and  Tschaikowsky  are  the  two  most 
eminent  composers  who  gave  tonal  utterance  to  the 
sombre  romance  of  Byron's  dramatic  poem.*  It  is 
interesting  to  remember  that  Byron  expressly  de- 
manded the  assistance  of  music  for  the  work.  If  we 
wish  to  catch  the  exact  effect  that  is  sought  in  the 
original  conception,  Schumann's  setting  is  the  nearest 
approach.  It  is  still  debated  whether  a  scenic  repre- 
sentation is  more  impressive,  or  a  simple  reading, 
reinforced  by  the  music. 

Tschaikowsky's  setting  is  a  "symphony  in  four 
pictures,  or  scenes  (en  quatre  tableaux),  after  Byron's 
dramatic  poem."  In  the  general  design  and  spirit 
there  is  much  of  the  feeling  of  Berlioz's  "  Fantastic  " 
Symphony,  though  the  manner  of  the  music  shows 
no  resemblance  whatever.  There  is  much  more  like- 

*  Prefixed  are  the  familiar  lines: 

"  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  your  philosophy." 

125 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


ness  to  Liszt's  "  Faust "  Symphony,  in  that  the  per- 
vading recurrence  of  themes  suggests  symbolic  labels. 
Moreover,  in  the  very  character  of  many  of  the 
motives,  there  is  here  a  striking  line  of  descent. 

Lento  lugubre,  the  first  scene  or  picture,  begins 
with  a  theme  in  basses  of  reeds: 

Lento  lugubre 
(Woodwind) 


ff  (Strings) 

with  later  pizzicato  figure  of  low  strings. 

An  answering  strain  is  one  of  the  most  important 
of  all  the  melodies : 


On  these,  a  bold  conflict  and  climax  is  reared. 
If  we  care  to  indulge  in  the  bad  habit  of  calling 
names,  we  might  see  "  Proud  Ambition  "  in  the  first 
motives,  intertwined  with  sounds  of  sombre  discon- 
tent. The  pace  grows  animando, — piu  mosso;  mod- 
erato  molto.  Suddenly  Andante  sings  a  new,  ex- 
126 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


pressive  song,  with  a  dulcet  cheer  of  its  own,  rising 
to  passionate  periods  and  a  final  height  whence, 
Andante  con  duolo,  a  loudest  chorus  of  high  wood 
and  strings,  heralded  and  accompanied  by  martial 
tremolo  of  low  wood,  horns,  basses,  and  drums,  sound 
the  fateful  chant  that  concludes  the  first  scene,  and, 
toward  the  close  of  the  work,  sums  the  main  idea. 


(Strings  and  flutes) 


(Same  con- 
tinuing  rhythm) 

The  apparition  of  the  Witch  of  the  Alps  is  pic- 
tured in  daintiest,  sparkling  play  of  strings  and  wood, 
with  constant  recurrence  of  mobile  figures  above 
and  below.  It  seems  as  if  the  image  of  the  fountain 
is  fittest  and  most  tempting  for  mirroring  in  music. 
Perhaps  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  haunting,  of 
all  the  "  Manfred  "  music  of  Schumann  is  this  same 
scene  of  the  Witch  of  the  Alps. 

Here,  with  Tschaikowsky,  hardly  a  single  note  of 
brass  intrudes  on  this  perpetuum  mobile  of  light, 
plashing  spray  until,  later,  strains  that  hark  back 
to  the  first  scene  cloud  the  clear  brilliancy  of  the 
cascade.  Now  the  play  of  the  waters  is  lost  in  the 
new  vision,  and  a  limpid  song  glides  in  the  violins, 
with  big  rhythmic  chords  of  harps,  is  taken  up  in 
127 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

clarinets,  and  carried  on  by  violins  in  new  melodic 
verse,  con  tenerezza  e  molto  expressione.  Then  the 
whole  chorus  sing  the  tune  in  gentle  volume.  As  it 
dies  away,  the  music  of  the  falling  waters  plash  as 
before.  The  returning  song  has  phases  of  varying  sad- 
ness and  passion.  At  the  most  vehement  height, — and 
here,  if  we  choose,  we  may  see  the  stern  order  to 
retire, — the  fatal  chant  is  shrieked  by  full  chorus  in 
almost  unison  fierceness. 

Gradually  the  innocent  play  of  the  waters  is  heard 
again,  though  a  gloomy  pall  hangs  over.  The  chant 
sounds  once  more  before  the  end. 

The  third,  "  Pastoral,"  scene  we  are  most  free  to 
enjoy  in  its  pure  musical  beauty,  with  least  need  of 
definite  dramatic  correspondences.  It  seems  at  first 
as  if  no  notes  of  gloom  are  allowed  to  intrude,  as  if 
the  picture  of  happy  simplicity  stands  as  a  foil  to 
the  tragedy  of  the  solitary  dreamer;  for  an  early 
climax  gives  a  mere  sense  of  the  awe  of  Alpine 
nature. 

Still,  as  we  look  and  listen  closer,  we  cannot  escape 
so  easily,  in  spite  of  the  descriptive  title.  Indeed,  the 
whole  work  seems,  in  its  relation  to  the  poem  upon 
which  it  is  based,  a  very  elusive  play  in  a  double  kind 
of  symbolism.  At  first  it  is  all  a  clear  subjective 
utterance  of  the  hero's  woes  and  hopes  and  fears, 
without  definite  touches  of  external  things.  Yet, 
right  in  the  second  scene  the  torrent  is  clear  almost 
to  the  eye,  and  the  events  pass  before  us  with  sharp 
distinctness.  Tending,  then,  to  look  on  the  third  as 
128 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

purest  pastoral,  we  are  struck  in  the  midst  by  an 
ominous  strain  from  one  of  the  earliest  moments  of 
the  work,  the  answer  of  the  first  theme  of  all.  Here 
notes  of  horns  ring  a  monotone ;  presently  a  church- 
bell  adds  a  higher  note.  The  peaceful  pastoral  airs 
then  return,  like  the  sun  after  a  fleeting  storm. 

The  whole  of  this  third  scene  of  Tschaikowsky's 
agrees  with  no  special  one  in  Byron's  poem,  unless 
we  go  back  to  the  second  of  the  first  act,  where  Man- 
fred, in  a  morning  hour,  alone  upon  the  cliffs,  views 
the  mountains  of  the  Jungfrau  before  he  makes  a 
foiled  attempt  to  spring  into  the  abyss.  By  a  direc- 
tion of  the  poet,  in  the  midst  of  the  monologue,  "  the 
shepherd's  pipe  in  the  distance  is  heard,"  and 
Manfred  muses  on  "  the  natural  music  of  the  moun- 
tain reed." 

The  last  scene  of  the  music  begins  with  Byron's 
fourth  of  Act  II  and  passes  over  all  the  incidents  of 
the  third  act  that  precede  the  hero's  death,  such  as 
the  two  interviews  with  the  Abbot  and  the  glorious 
invocation  to  the  sun. 

From  Tschaikowsky's  title,  we  must  look  for  the 
awful  gloom  of  the  cavernous  hall  of  Arimanes, 
Byron's  "Prince  of  Earth  and  Air."  The  gray 
figure  from  most  ancient  myth  is  not  less  real  to  us 
than  Mefistofeles  in  "  Faust."  At  least  we  clearly 
feel  the  human  daring  that  feared  not  to  pry  into 
forbidden  mysteries  and  refused  the  solace  of  un- 
thinking faith.  And  it  becomes  again  a  question 
whether  the  composer  had  in  mind  this  subjective 
9  129 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


attitude  of  the  hero  or  the  actual  figures  and  abode 
of  the  spirits  and  their  king.  It  is  hard  to  escape 
the  latter  view,  from  the  general  tenor,  the  clear-cut 
outline  of  the  tunes,  of  which  the  principal  is  like 
a  stern  chant : 


(Wood,  strings  and  horns) 


tEi 


3fc 


The  most  important  of  the  later  answers  lies  largely 
in  the  basses. 


(Rhythmic  chords  in  strings) 


There  is,  on  the  whole,  rather  an  effect  of  gloomy 
splendor  (the  external  view)  than  of  meditation;  a 
sense  of  visible  massing  than  of  passionate  crisis, 
though  there  is  not  wanting  a  stirring  motion  and 
life  in  the  picture.  This  is  to  speak  of  the  first  part, 
Allegro  con  fuoco. 

The  gloomy  dance  dies  away.  Lento  is  a  soft  f ugal 
chant  on  elemental  theme;  there  is  all  the  solemnity 
of  cathedral  service;  after  the  low-chanted  phrase 
130 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

follows  a  tremendous  blare  of  the  brass.  The  re- 
peated chant  is  followed  by  one  of  the  earliest,  char- 
acteristic themes  of  the  first  scene.  And  so,  if  we 
care  to  follow  the  graphic  touch,  we  may  see  here  the 
intrusion  of  Manfred,  at  the  most  solemn  moment  of 
the  fearful  revel. 

As  Manfred,  in  Byron's  poem,  enters  undaunted, 
refusing  to  kneel,  the  first  of  the  earlier  phases  rings 
out  in  fierce  fortissimo.  A  further  conflict  appears 
later,  when  the  opening  theme  of  the  work  sounds 
with  interruptions  of  the  first  chant  of  the  spirits. 

A  dulcet  plaint  follows,  Adagio,  in  muted  strings, 
answered  by  a  note  of  horn  and  a  chord  of  harp. 

Adagio 
(Muted  strings  answered  by  horn  and  harp) 


It  all  harks  back  to  the  gentler  strains  of  the  first 
movement.  In  the  ethereal  glissando  of  harps  we  see 
the  spirit  of  Astarte  rise  to  give  the  fatal  message. 
The  full  pathos  and  passion  of  the  lento  episode  of 
first  scene  is  heard  in  brief,  vivid  touches,  and  is 
followed  by  the  same  ominous  blast  with  ring  of  horn, 
as  in  the  first  picture. 

A  note  of  deliverance  shines  clear  in  the  final 
131 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

phrase  of  joined  orchestra  and  organ,  clearer  perhaps 
than  in  Manfred's  farewell  line  in  the  play :  "  Old 
man !  'tis  not  so  difficult  to  die."  To  be  sure,  Schu- 
mann spreads  the  same  solace  o'er  the  close  of  his 
setting,  with  the  Eequiem.  The  sombre  splendor  of 
romance  is  throughout,  with  just  a  touch  of  turgid. 
In  the  poignant  ecstasy  of  grief  we  feel  vividly  the 
foreshadowing  example  of  Liszt,  in  his  "  Dante " 
and  "  Faust "  Symphonies. 

FIFTH  SYMPHONY   (E  MINOR) 

With  all  the  unfailing  flow  of  lesser  melodies  where 
the  charm  is  often  greatest  of  all,  and  the  main 
themes  of  each  movement  with  a  chain  of  derived 
phrases,  one  melody  prevails  and  reappears  through- 
out. The  fluency  is  more  striking  here  than  else- 
where in  Tschaikowsky.  All  the  external  sources, — 
all  the  glory  of  material  art  seem  at  his  command. 
We  are  reminded  of  a  certain  great  temptation  to 
which  all  men  are  subject  and  some  fall, — however 
reluctantly.  Throughout  there  is  a  vein  of  daemonic. 
The  second  (Allegro)  melody  grows  to  a  high  point 
of  pathos, — nay,  anguish,  followed  later  by  buoyant, 
strepitant,  dancing  delight,  with  the  melting  answer, 
in  the  latest  melody.  The  daemon  is  half  external 
fate — in  the  Greek  sense,  half  individual  temper. 
The  end  is  almost  sullen;  but  the  charm  is  never 
failing;  at  the  last  is  the  ever  springing  rhythm. 
132 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


Andante 

pesante  e  tenuto  sempre 


1*    I     T 

(Low  strings) 

The  march  rhythm  of  the  opening  Andante  i&  car- 
ried suddenly  into  a  quick  trip,  Allegro  con  anima 
(6/8),  where  the  main  theme  of  the  first  movement 
now  begins,  freely  extended  as  in  a  full  song  of 
verses.  New  accompanying  figures  are  added,  con- 
trasting phrases  or  counter-melodies,  to  the  theme. 


Allegro  con  anima 


Solo  clarinet  (doubled  be- 
low with  solo  bassoon.) 


One  expressive  line  plays  against  the  wilder  rhythm 

of  the  theme,  with  as  full  a  song  in  its  own  mood 

as  the  other.     A   new  rhythmic  motive,   of  great 

133 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

charm,  un  pocchetino  piu  animato,  is  answered  by 
a  bit  of  the  theme.     Out  of  it  all  grows,  in  a  clear 


(Strings) 

welded  chain,  another  episode,  where  the  old  rhythm 
is  a  mere  gentle  spur  to  the  new  plaint, — molto  piu 
tranquillo,  molto  cantabile  ed  espressivo. 

Molto  piu  tranquillo 
Molto  cantabile  ed  espr. 

-'  -      J     K  *   J 


To  be  sure,  the  climax  has  all  of  the  old  pace 
and  life,  and  every  voice  of  the  chorus  at  the  loudest. 
In  the  answering  and  echoing  of  the  various  phrases, 
rhythmic  and  melodic,  is  the  charm  of  the  discussion 
that  follows.  Later  the  three  melodies  come  again 
in  the  former  order,  and  the  big  climax  of  the  plain- 
134 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

tive  episode  precedes  the  end,  where  the  main  theme 
dies  down  to  a  whisper. 

Andante  cantdbile,  con  alcuna  licenza.     After  pre- 
luding chords  in  lowest  strings  a  solo  horn  begins  a 

(Andante  cantdbile,  con  alcuma  licenza) 
(Horn)  ;>  > 


languishing  song,  dolce  con  molto  espressione.  It 
is  a  wonderful  elegy,  a  yearning  without  hope,  a 
swan-song  of  desire,  sadder  almost  than  the  frank  de- 
spair of  the  Finale  of  the  Pathetique  symphony, — 
pulsing  with  passion,  gorgeous  with  a  hectic  glow 
of  expressive  beauty,  moving  too  with  a  noble  grace. 
Though  there  is  a  foil  of  lighter  humor,  this  is 
overwhelmed  in  the  fateful  gloom  of  the  returning 
main  motto. 

The  abounding  beauty  with  all  its  allurement 
lacks  the  solace  that  the  masters  have  led 
us  to  seek  in  the  heart  of  a  symphony.  The 
clarinet  presently  twines  a  phrase  about  the  tune 
until  a  new  answer  sounds  in  the  oboe,  that  now 
sings  in  answering  and  chasing  duet  with  the  horn. 
135 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


The  phrase  of  oboe  proves  to  be  the  main  song,  in 
full  extended  periods,  reaching  a  climax  with  all  the 
voices. 

Con  moto 
(Solo  oboe) 

Jji  Hi J-r 


Well  defined  is  the  middle  episode  in  minor  reared 
on  a  new  theme  of  the  clarinet  with  an  almost  fugal 
polyphony  that  departs  from  the  main  lyric  mood. 

Moderate  con  anima 
(Solo  clar.) 
mf 


(Strings) 

At  the  height  all  the  voices  fall  into  a  united  chorus 
on  the  original  motto  of  the  symphony.  The  first 
melodies  of  the  Andante  now  return  with  big  sweep 
and  power,  and  quicker  phrases  from  the  episode. 
The  motto  reappears  in  a  final  climax,  in  the  trom- 
bones, before  the  hushed  close. 
136 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

We  must  not  infer  too  readily  a  racial  trait  from 
the  temper  of  the  individual  composer.  There  is  here 
an  error  that  we  fall  into  frequently  in  the  music 
of  such  men  as  Grieg  and  Tschaikowsky.  The  pre- 
vailing mood  of  the  Pathetic  Symphony  is  in  large 
measure  personal.  Some  of  the  more  recent  Russian 
symphonies  are  charged  with  buoyant  joyousness. 
And,  indeed,  the  burden  of  sadness  clearly  distin- 
guishes the  last  symphony  of  Tschaikowsky  from  its 
two  predecessors,  the  Fourth  and  the  Fifth. 

The  tune  of  the  valse,  Allegro  moderato,  is  first 
played  by  the  violins,  dolce  con  grazia,  with  accom- 
panying strings,  horns  and  bassoon.  In  the  second 
part,  with  some  loss  of  the  lilt  of  dance,  is  a  subtle 
design — with  a  running  phrase  in  spiccato  strings 
against  a  slower  upward  glide  of  bassoons.  The  duet 
winds  on  a  kind  of  crescendo  df  modulations.  Later 


(Spiccato\ 


(Bassoon) 


the  themes  are  inverted,  and  the  second  is  redoubled 

in  speed.    The  whole  merges  naturally  into  the  first 

waltz,  with  a  richer  suite  of  adorning  figures.    The 

137 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


dance  does  not  end  without  a  soft  reminder  (in  low 
woodwind)  of  the  original  sombre  phrase. 

Almost  for  the  first  time  a  waltz  has  entered  the 
shrine  of  the  symphony.  And  yet  perhaps  this  dance 
has  all  the  more  a  place  there.  It  came  on  impulse 
(the  way  to  visit  a  sanctuary),  not  by  ancient  cus- 
tom. But  with  all  its  fine  variety,  it  is  a  simple 
waltz  with  all  the  careless  grace, — nothing  more,  with 
no  hidden  or  graphic  meaning  (as  in  Berlioz's  Fan- 
tastic Symphony). 

The  middle  episode,  though  it  lacks  the  dancing 
trip,  is  in  the  one  continuing  mood, — like  a  dream  of 
youthful  joys  with  just  a  dimming  hint  of  grim 
reality  in  the  returning  motto. 

In  the  Finale  the  main  legend  of  the  symphony 
is  transformed  and  transfigured  in  a  new,  serener 
mood,  and  is  brought  to  a  full  melodic  bloom.  In- 
deed, here  is  the  idealization  of  the  original  motto. 
Andante  maestoso  it  begins  in  the  tonic  major.  When 
the  theme  ceases,  the  brass  blow  the  rhythm  on  a 
monotone,  midst  an  ascending  obligato  of  strings. 

(Brass  and  lower  woodwind) 
4 


r 


(See  page  139,  line  1.) 
138 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 


In  answer  comes  a  new  phrase  of  chorale.  Later  the 
chorale  is  sounded  by  the  full  band,  with  intermediate 
beats  of  rhythmic  march. 

Once  more  there  is  a  well-marked  episode,  with 
a  full  share  of  melodic  discussion,  of  clashing  themes, 
of  dramatic  struggle.  First  in  the  tonic  minor  a 
theme  rises  from  the  last  casual  cadence  in  resonant 
march,  Allegro  vivace.  Then  follows  a  duet,  almost 

Allegro  vivace 

(Strings  and  low  wood) 


(Trill  of  kettle-drums) 
a  harsh  grating  of  an  eccentric  figure  above  against 

(Solo  oboe) 

4h*-f* 


(Low  wood) 


(Pizz.  cellos) 


the  smoother  course  of  the  latest  Allegro  motive. 
The  themes  are  inverted.  Presently  out  of  the  din 
rises  a  charming  canon  on  the  prevailing  smoother 
phrase,  that  soars  to  a  full  sweep  of  song.  A  new 
139 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


(Basses  8va.)        (Low  strings) 

hymnal  melody  comes  as  a  final  word.  Though  the 
main  motto  returns  in  big  chorus,  in  full  extension, 
in  redoubled  pace  and  wild  abandon,  still  the  latest 
melody  seems  to  contend  for  the  last  say.  Or,  rather, 

(Woodwind  doubled  above  and_below) 
,    ..    mfevr^ 


(See  page  141,  line  2.) 
140 


TSCHAIKOWSKY 

it  is  a  foil,  in  its  simple  flow,  to  the  revel  of  the 
motto,  now  grown  into  a  sonorous,  joyous  march. 
And  we  seem  to  see  how  most  of  the  other  melodies, 
— the  minor  episode,  the  expressive  duet — have 
sprung  from  bits  of  the  main  text. 

To  return  for  another  view, — the  Finale  begins  in 
a  mood  that,  if  not  joyous,  is  religious.  Out  of 
the  cadence  of  the  hymn  dances  the  Allegro  tune 
almost  saucily.  Nor  has  this  charming  trip  the  ring 
of  gladness,  though  it  grows  to  great  momentum.  As 
a  whole  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  assurance,  after  the 
earlier  fitful  gloom,  and  with  the  resignation  an 
almost  militant  spirit  of  piety. 

In  the  dulcet  canon,  an  exquisite  gem,  bliss 
and  sadness  seem  intermingled;  and  then  follows 
the  crowning  song,  broad  of  pace,  blending  the 
smaller  rhythms  in  ecstatic  surmounting  of  gloom. 
In  further  verse  it  doubles  its  sweet  burden  in 
overlapping  voices,  while  far  below  still  moves  the 
rapid  trip. 

But  the  motto  will  return,  in  major  to  be  sure, 
and  tempered  in  mercy.  And  the  whole  hymn  dom- 
inates, with  mere  interludes  of  tripping  motion, 
breaking  at  the  height  into  double  pace  of  concluding 
strain.  Before  falling  back  into  the  thrall  of  the 
legend  the  furious  race  rushes  eagerly  into  the  deep- 
est .note  of  bliss,  where  in  sonorous  bass  rolls  the 
broad,  tranquil  song.  And  though  the  revel  must 
languish,  yet  we  attend  the  refrain  of  all  the  melodies 
in  crowning  rapture.  Then  at  last,  in  stern  minor, 
141 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

sounds  the  motto,  still  with  the  continuing  motion, 
in  a  loud  and  long  chant. 

In  blended  conclusion  of  the  contending  moods 
comes  a  final  verse  of  the  legend  in  major,  with 
full  accoutrement  of  sounds  and  lesser  rhythm,  in 
majestic  pace.  And  there  is  a  following  frolic  with 
a  verse  of  the  serene  song.  The  end  is  in  the  first 
Allegro  theme  of  the  symphony,  in  transfigured 
major  tone. 

We  must  he  clear  at  least  of  the  poet's  intent.  In 
the*  Fifth  Symphony  Tschaikowsky  sang  a  brave  song 
of  struggle  with  Fate. 


142 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  KEO-RUSSIANS 

FOR  some  mystic  reason  nowhere  in  modern  music 
is  the  symphony  so  justified  as  in  Russia.  Else- 
where it  survives  by  the  vitality  of  its  tradition.  In 
France  we  have  seen  a  series  of  works  distinguished 
rather  by  consummate  refinement  than  by  strength  of 
intrinsic  content.  In  Germany  since  the  master- 
pieces of  Brahms  we  glean  little  besides  the  learnedly 
facile  scores  of  a  Bruckner,  with  a  maximum  of  work- 
manship and  a  minimum  of  sturdy  feeling, — or  a 
group  of  "heroic"  symphonies  all  cast  in  the  same 
plot  of  final  transfiguration.  The  one  hopeful  sign 
is  the  revival  of  a  true  counterpoint  in  the  works 
of  Mahler. 

Some  national  song,  like  the  Bohemian,  lends 
itself  awkwardly  to  the  larger  forms.  The  native 
vein  is  inadequate  to  the  outer  mould,  that  shrinks 
and  dwindles  into  formal  utterance.  It  may  be  a 
question  of  the  quantity  of  a  racial  message  and  of 
its  intensity  after  long  suppression.  Here,  if  we 
cared  to  enlarge  in  a  political  disquisition,  we  might 
account  for  the  symphony  of  Russians  and  Finns,  and 
of  its  absence  in  Scandinavia.  The  material  elements, 
abundant  rhythm,  rich  color,  individual  and  varied 
folk-song,  are  only  the  means  by  which  the  national 
143 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

temper  is  expressed.  Secondly,  it  must  be  noted  as 
a  kind  of  paradox,  the  power  of  the  symphony  as 
a  national  utterance  is  increased  by  a  mastery  of  the 
earlier  classics.  With  all  that  we  hear  of  the  narrow 
nationalism  of  the  Neo-Russians,  we  cannot  deny 
them  the  breadth  that  comes  from  a  close  touch  with 
the  masters.  Mozart  is  an  element  in  their  music 
almost  as  strong  as  their  own  folk-song.  Here,  it 
may  be,  the  bigger  burden  of  a  greater  national  mes- 
sage unconsciously  seeks  the  larger  means  of  expres- 
sion. And  it  becomes  clear  that  the  sharper  and  nar- 
rower the  national  school,  the  less  complete  is  its 
utterance,  the  more  it  defeats  its  ultimate  purpose. 

The  broad  equipment  of  the  new  Eussian  group  is 
seen  at  the  outset  in  the  works  of  its  founder,  Balaki- 
rew.  And  thus  the  difference  between  them  and 
Tschaikowsky  lay  mainly  in  the  formulated  aim.* 

The  national  idea,  so  eminent  in  modern  music,  is 
not  everywhere  equally  justified.  And  here,  as  in  an 
object-lesson,  we  see  the  true  merits  of  the  problem. 
While  one  nation  spontaneously  utters  its  cry,  an- 
other, like  a  cock  on  the  barnyard,  starts  a  move- 
ment in  mere  idle  vanity,  in  sheer  self-glorification. 

In  itself  there  is  nothing  divine  in  a  national  idea 
that  needs  to  be  enshrined  in  art.  Deliberate  segre- 

*  In  the  choice  of  subjects  there  was  a  like  breadth. 
Balakirew  was  inspired  by  "  King  Lear,"  as  was  Tschaikow- 
sky.  And  amid  a  wealth  of  Slavic  legend  and  of  kindred 
Oriental  lore,  he  would  turn  to  the  rhythms  of  distant 
Spain  for  a  poetic  theme. 

144 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

gation  is  equally  vain,  whether  it  be  national  or  social. 
A  true  racial  celebration  must  above  all  be  spon- 
taneous. Even  then  it  can  have  no  sanction  in  art, 
unless  it  utter  a  primal  motive  of  resistance  to  sup- 
pression, the  elemental  pulse  of  life  itself.  There  is 
somehow  a  divine  dignity  about  the  lowest  in  human 
rank,  whether  racial  or  individual.  The  oppressed 
of  a  nation  stands  a  universal  type,  his  wrongs  are  the 
wrongs  of  all,  and  so  his  lament  has  a  world-wide 
appeal.  And  in  truth  from  the  lowest  class  rises  ever 
the  rich  spring  of  folk-song  of  which  all  the  art  is 
reared,  whence  comes  the  paradox  that  the  peasant 
furnishes  the  song  for  the  delight  of  his  oppressors, 
while  they  boast  of  it  as  their  own.  Just  in  so  far  as 
man  is  devoid  of  human  sympathy,  is  he  narrow  and 
barren  in  his  song.  Music  is  mere  feeling,  the  fulness 
of  human  experience,  not  in  the  hedonic  sense  of 
modern  tendencies,  but  of  pure  joys  and  profound 
sorrows  that  spring  from  elemental  relations,  of  man 
to  man,  of  mate  to  mate. 

Here  lies  the  nobility  of  the  common  people  and  of 
its  song;  the  national  phase  is  a  mere  incident  of 
political  conditions.  The  war  of  races  is  no  alembic 
for  beauty  of  art.  If  there  were  no  national  lines, 
there  would  still  be  folk-song, — merely  without  sharp 
distinction.  The  future  of  music  lies  less  in  the  dif- 
ferentiation of  human  song,  than  in  its  blending. 

Thus  we  may  rejoice  in  the  musical  utterance  of  a 
race    like    the    Russian,    groaning    and    struggling 
through  ages  against  autocracy  for  the  dignity  of  man 
10  145 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

himself, — and  in  a  less  degree  for  the  Bohemian, 
seeking  to  hold  its  heritage  against  enforced  submer- 
gence. But  we  cannot  take  so  seriously  the  proud 
self-isolation  of  other  independent  nations. 

BALAKIREW*  SYMPHONY  IN  C 
The  national  idea  shines  throughout,  apart  from 
the  "Kussian  Theme"  that  forms  the  main  text  of 
the  Finale.    One  may  see  the  whole  symphony  leading 
up  to  the  national  celebration. 

As  in  the  opening  phrase  (in  solemn  Largo)  with 

(Lower  reed,  with  strings  in  three  8ves.) 
Largo 


its  answer  are  proclaimed  the  subjects  that  presently 


appear  in  rapid  pace,  so  the  whole  movement  must  be 
taken  as  a  big  prologue,  forecasting  rather  than  rea- 
lizing. There  is  a  dearth  of  melodic  stress  and 

*  Mili  Alexeivich  Balakirew  was  born  at  Nizhni-Novgo- 
rod  in   1836;   he  died  at   St.   Petersburg   in   1911.     He   is 
regarded  as  the  founder  of  the  Neo-Russian  School. 
146 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

balance;  so  little  do  the  subjects  differ  that  they 
are  in  essence  merely  obverse  in  outline. 

Mystic  harmonies  and  mutations  of  the  motto  lead 
to  a  quicker  guise  (Allegro  vivo).  Independently  of 
themes,  the  rough  edge  of  tonality  and  the  vigorous 
primitive  rhythms  are  expressive  of  the  Slav  feeling. 
Withal  there  is  a  subtlety  of  harmonic  manner  that 
could  come  only  through  the  grasp  of  the  classics 
common  to  all  nations.  Augmentation  and  diminu- 
tion of  theme  abound,  together  with  the  full  fugal 
manner.  A  warm,  racial  color  is  felt  in  the  prodigal 
use  of  lower  reeds.* 

In  all  the  variety  of  quick  and  slower  melodies  a 
single  phrase  of  five  notes,  the  opening  of  the  sym- 
phony, pervades.  In  all  kinds  of  humor  it  sings, 
martial,  solemn,  soothing,  meditative,  or  sprightly. 
Poetic  in  high  degree  is  this  subtle  metamorphosis, 
so  that  the  symphony  in  the  first  movement  seems 
to  prove  the  art  rather  than  the  national  spirit  of  the 
Neo-Russians. 

Of  the  original  answer  is  wrought  all  the  balance 
and  foil  of  second  theme,  and  like  the  first  it  reaches 
a  climactic  height.  But  the  first  is  the  sovereign 
figure  of  the  story.  It  enters  into  the  pattern  of 
every  new  phase,  it  seems  the  text  of  which  all  the 
melodies  are  fashioned,  or  a  sacred  symbol  that  must 
be  all-pervading.  In  a  broader  pace  (Alia  breve) 

*  Besides  the  English  horn  and  four  bassoons  there  are 
four  clarinets, — double  the  traditional  number. 

147 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

is  a  mystic  discussion  of  the  legend,  as  of  dogma, 
ending  in  big  pontifical  blast  of  the  answering  theme. 

The  whole  movement  is  strangely  frugal  of  joyous 
abandon.  Instead  of  rolling,  revelling  melody  there 
is  stern  proclamation,  as  of  oracle,  in  the  solemn 
pauses.  The  rhythm  is  purposely  hemmed  and 
broken.  Kestraint  is  everywhere.  Almost  the  only 
continuous  thread  is  of  the  meditative  fugue. 

A  single  dulcet  lyric  verse  (of  the  motto)  is  soon 


(Cellos  with  tremolo  of  lower  strings) 


8ve. 


banished  by  a  sudden  lively,  eccentric  phrase  that  has 
an  air  of  forced  gaiety,  with  interplay  of  mystic  sym- 
bols. At  last,  on  a  farther  height,  comes  the  first 


Con  8ve 
Tutti 


Con  8ve. . . 

joyous  abandon  (in  a  new  mask  of  the  motto),  recur- 
ring anon  as  recess  from  sombre  brooding. 
148 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

Here  the  second  subject  has  a  free  song, — in  gentle 
chase  of  pairs  of  voices  (of  woodwind  and  muted 
strings  and  harp)  and  grows  to  alluring  melody.  As 


(Lower  reed,  with  tremolo  of  lower  strings) 


from  a  dream  the  eccentric  trip  awakens  us,  on 
ever  higher  wing.  At  the  top  in  slower  swing  of 
chords  horn  and  reeds  chant  the  antiphonal  legend, 
and  in  growing  rapture,  joined  by  the  strings,  rush 
once  more  into  the  jubilant  revel,  the  chanting  legend 
still  sounding  anon  in  sonorous  bass. 

The  climax  of  feeling  is  uttered  in  a  fiery  burst 
of  all  the  brass  in  the  former  dulcet  refrain  from  the 
motto.  In  full  sweep  of  gathering  host  it  flows  in 
unhindered  song.  Somehow  by  a  slight  turn,  the 
tune  is  transformed  into  the  alluring  melody  of  the 
second  theme.  When  the  former  returns,  we  feel  that 
both  strains  are  singing  as  part  of  a  single  song  and 
that  the  two  subjects  are  blended  and  reconciled  in 
rapture  of  content. 

A  new  mystic  play  of  the  quicker  motto,  answered 
by  the  second  theme,  leads  to  an  overpowering  blast 
149 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

of  the  motto  in  slowest  notes  of  brass  and  reed,  ending 
in  a  final  fanfare. 

All  lightness  is  the  Scherzo,  though  we  cannot 
escape  a  Russian  vein  of  minor  even  in  the  dance.  A 
rapid  melody  has  a  kind  of  perpetual  motion  in  the 
strings,  with  mimicking  echoes  in  the  wood.  But  the 
strange  part  is  how  the  natural  accompanying  voice 
below  (in  the  bassoon)  makes  a  haunting  melody  of 

(Violins  doubled  below  in  violas) 

vP- 


(Pizz.  cellos) 

its  own, — especially  when  they  fly  away  to  the  major. 
As  we  suspected,  the  lower  proves  really  the  principal 
song  as  it  winds  on  in  the  languorous  English  horn 
or  in  the  higher  reed.  Still  the  returning  dance  has 
now  the  whole  stage  in  a  long  romp  with  strange 
peasant  thud  of  the  brass  on  the  second  beat.  Then 
the  song  rejoins  the  dance,  just  as  in  answering  glee, 
later  in  united  chorus. 

A  quieter  song  (that  might  have  been  called  the 
Trio)  has  still  a  clinging  flavor  of  the  soil, — as  of  a 
folk-ballad,  that  is  not  lost  with  the  later  madrigal 
nor  with  the  tripping  figure  that  runs  along. 

Strangely,  after  the  full  returning  dance,  an  epi- 
150 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 
(Trio)   Poco  meno  mosso 


logue  of  the  ballad  appears  over  a  drone,  as  of  bag- 
pipe, through  all  the  harmony  of  the  madrigal. 
Strangest  of  all  is  the  playful  last  refrain  in  the  high 
piccolo  over  the  constant  soft  strumming  strings. 

The   Andante,    in   pure   lyric   mood,    is   heavily 
charged  with  a  certain  Oriental  languor.    The  clari- 


(Clarinet) 


riJU-Ut.,    i;<*  *'*  Vi±±l=t 

^&V«         "     t   *      t     *    n   *         -I 


(Strings       Fizz. 
with  harp)     On  ^oe. 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

net  leads  the  song,  to  rich  strum  of  harp  and  strings, 
with  its  note  of  sensuous  melancholy.  Other,  more 
external  signs  there  are  of  Eastern  melody,  as  in  the 
graceful  curl  of  quicker  notes.  Intermediate  strains 
between  the  verses  seem  gently  to  rouse  the  slumber- 
ing feeling, — still  more  when  they  play  between  the 
lines  of  the  song.  The  passion  that  is  lulled  in  the 
languor  of  main  melody,  is  somehow  uttered  in  the 
later  episode, — still  more  in  the  dual  song  of  both 

(Violins  doubled 


f  (Horns  and  bassoons 
doubled  above  in  wood)         ,         •         •         • 

^\^  ^\^   n^T^  ^\^ 

a.,  a.. *i.  .J-. 


r~^r 

(Strings    U     _ 
and  horns)  Con8ve" 


**\ 


melodies, — though  it  quickly  drops  before  a  strange 

coquetry  of  other  strains.     Yet  the  climax  of  the 

152 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

main  song  is  reached  when  the  lighter  phrase  rings 
fervently  in  the  high  brass.  Here  the  lyric  beauty  is 
stressed  in  a  richer  luxuriance  of  rhythmic  setting. 
Once  more  sings  the  passionate  tune ;  then  in  midst 
of  the  last  verse  of  the  main  song  is  a  quick  alarm 
of  rushing  harp.  The  languorous  dream  is  broken; 
there  is  an  air  of  new  expectancy.  Instead  of  a  close 
is  a  mere  pause  on  a  passing  harmony  at  the  portals 
of  the  high  festival. 

With  a  clear  martial  stress  the  "  Eussion  Theme  " 
is  sounded  (in  low  strings),  to  the  full  a  national 

Allegro  moderate 

Finale     Thtme  Rwsse  ^^  Handing  ]  2d  ending   j 


^(Cellos  with  basses  in  lower  8ve.) 

I    1st  ending. 




tune  of  northern  race.  Enriched  with  prodigal  har- 
mony and  play  of  lesser  themes  it  flows  merrily  on, 
yet  always  with  a  stern  pace,  breaking  out  at  last  in 
a  blare  of  warlike  brass. 

Nor  does  the  martial  spirit  droop  in  the  second 

tune,   though   the  melodies   are   in   sheer   contrast. 

In  faster  rhythm,  the  second  is  more  festal  so  that 

the  first  returning  has  a  tinge  almost  of  terror.    An 

153 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


after-strain  of  the  second  has  a  slightest  descent  to 
reflective  feeling,  from  which  there  is  a  new  rebound 


(Strings  and  harp  with 
sustained  chord  of  horns) 

to  the  buoyant  (festal)  melody. 

Here  in  grim  refrains,  in  dim  depths  of  basses 
154 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

(with  hollow  notes  of  horns)  the  national  tune  has  a 
free  fantasy  until  it  is  joined  by  the  second  in  a  loud 
burst  in  the  minor. 

Now  the  latter  sings  in  constant  alternation  with 
the  answering  strain,  then  descends  in  turn  into  the 
depths  of  sombre  musing.  There  follows  a  big,  reso- 
nant dual  climax  (the  main  theme  in  lower  brass), 
with  an  edge  of  grim  defiance.  In  the  lull  we  seem 
to  catch  a  brief  mystic  play  of  the  first  motto  of  the 
symphony  (in  the  horns)  before  the  last  joyous  song 
of  both  melodies, — all  with  a  power  of  intricate 
design  and  a  dazzling  brilliancy  of  harmony,  in 
proud  national  celebration. 

A  last  romp  is  in  polacca  step  on  the  tune  of  the 
Russian  Theme. 

RIM8KY-KOR8AKOW*     "  AN  TAR,"  SYMPHONY 
The  title-page  tells  us  that  "the  subject  is  taken 
from  an  Arabian  tale  of  Sennkowsky."    Opposite  the 
beginning  of  the  score  is  a  summary  of  the  story,  in 
Russian  and  in  French,  as  follows: 

I. — Awful  is  the  view  of  the  desert  of  Sham;  mighty 
in  their  desolation  are  the  ruins  of  Palmyra,  the  city 
razed  by  the  spirits  of  darkness.  But  Antar,  the  man  of 
the  desert,  braves  them,  and  dwells  serenely  in  the  midst 
of  the  scenes  of  destruction.  Antar  has  forever  forsaken 
the  company  of  mankind.  He  has  sworn  eternal  hatred 
on  account  of  the  evil  they  returned  him  for  the  good 
which  he  intended. 

Suddenly  a  charming,  graceful  gazelle  appears.     Antar 

*  Nicholas   Rimsky-Korsakow,   Russian,    1844-1908. 
155 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

starts  to  pursue  it.  But  a  great  noise  seems  pulsing 
through  the  heavens,  and  the  light  of  day  is  veiled  by  a 
dense  shadow.  It  is  a  giant  bird  that  is  giving  chase  to 
the  gazelle. 

Antar  straightway  changes  his  intent,  and  attacks  the 
monster,  which  gives  a  piercing  cry  and  flies  away.  The 
gazelle  disappears  at  the  same  time,  and  Antar,  left  alone 
in  the  midst  of  ruins,  soon  goes  to  sleep  while  meditating 
on  the  event  that  has  happened. 

He  sees  himself  transported  to  a  splendid  palace,  where 
a  multitude  of  slaves  hasten  to  serve  him  and  to  charm  his 
ear  with  their  song.  It  is  the  abode  of  the  Queen  of 
Palmyra, — the  fairy  Gul-nazar.  The  gazelle  that  he  has 
saved  from  the  talons  of  the  spirit  of  darkness  is  none 
other  than  the  fairy  herself.  In  gratitude  Gul-nazar  prom- 
ises Antar  the  three  great  joys  of  life,  and,  when  he 
assents  to  the  proffered  gift,  the  vision  vanishes  and  he 
awakes  amid  the  surrounding  ruins. 

II. — The  first  joy  granted  by  the  Queen  of  Palmyra  to 
Antar  are  the  delights  of  vengeance. 

III. — The  second  joy — the  delights  of  power. 

IV. — Antar  has  returned  to  the  fallen  remains  of  Pal- 
myra. The  third  and  last  gift  granted  by  the  fairy  to 
Antar  is  the  joy  of  true  love.  Antar  begs  the  fairy  to 
take  away  his  life  as  soon  as  she  perceives  the  least 
estrangement  on  his  side,  and  she  promises  to  do  his 
desire. 

After  a  long  time  of  mutual  bliss  the  fairy  perceives, 
one  day,  that  Antar  is  absent  in  spirit  and  is  gazing  into 
the  distance.  Straightway,  divining  the  reason,  she  pas- 
sionately embraces  him.  The  fire  of  her  love  enflames 
Antar,  and  his  heart  is  consumed  away. 

Their  lips  meet  in  a  last  kiss  and  Antar  dies  in  the 
arms  of  the  fairy. 

The  phases  of  the  story  are  clear  in  the  chain  of 
musical  scenes,  of  the  movements  themselves  and 
156 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 


within  them.  In  the  opening  Largo  that  recurs  in 
this  movement  between  the  visions  and  happenings, 
a  melody  appears  (in  violas)  that  moves  in  all  the 


(Woodwind) 

acts  of  the  tragedy.    It  is  clearly  the  Antar  motive, — 
here  amidst  ruin  and  desolation. 

The  fairy  theme  is  also  unmistakable,  that  first 
plays  in  the  flute,  against  soft  horns,  Allegro  giocoso, 

(Flute) 
Allegro  giocoso 


and  is  lost  in  the  onrushing  attack,  furioso,  of  a 
strain  that  begins  in  murmuring  of  muted  strings. 

Other  phrases  are  merely  graphic  or  incidental. 
But  the  Antar  motive  is  throughout  the  central  mov- 
ing figure. 

The  scene  of  the  desert  returns  at  the  end  of  the 
movement. 

In  the  second  (Allegro,  rising  to  Molto  allegro, 
157 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


returning  allargando)  the  Antar  motive  is  seldom 
absent.  The  ending  is  in  long  notes  of  solo  oboe  and 
first  violins.  There  is  no  trace  of  the  fairy  queen 
throughout  the  movement. 

The  third  movement  has  phases  of  mighty  action 
(as  in  the  beginning,  Allegro  risoluto  alia  Marcia), 
of  delicate  charm,  and  even  of  humor.  The  Antar 
melody  plays  in  the  clangor  of  big  climax  in  sonorous 
tones  of  the  low  brass,  against  a  quick  martial  phrase 
of  trumpets  and  horns.  Again  there  is  in  this  move- 
ment no  sign  of  the  fairy  queen. 

In  the  fourth  movement,  after  a  prelude,  Allegretto 
vivace,  with  light  trip  of  high  flutes,  a  melody,  of 
actual  Arab  origin,  sings  Andante  amoroso  in  the 

(Arabian  melody) 
Andante  amoroso 


(Bassoon) 


._r 


an»: 


£ 


i 


158 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

English  horn,  and  continues  almost  to  the  end, 
broken  only  by  the  dialogue  of  the  lover  themes. 
At  the  close  a  last  strain  of  the  Antar  melody  is 
followed  by  the  fairy  phrase  and  soft  vanishing  chord 
of  harp  and  strings. 

"  SCHEREZADE,"   AFTER   "A    THOUSAND   AND    ONE 
NIGHTS."     SYMPHONIC  SUITE 

Prefixed  to  the  score  is  a  "  program,"  in  Russian 
and  French :  "  The  Sultan  Schahriar,  convinced  of 
the  infidelity  of  women,  had  sworn  to  put  to  death 
each  of  his  wives  after  the  first  night.  But  the  Sultana 
Scherezade  saved  her  life  by  entertaining  him  with 
the  stories  which  she  told  him  during  a  thousand  and 
one  nights.  Overcome  by  curiosity,  the  Sultan  put 
off  from  day  to  day  the  death  of  his  wife,  and  at  last 
entirely  renounced  his  bloody  vow. 

Many  wonders  were  told  to  Schahriar  by  the  Sul- 
tana Scherezade.  For  the  stories  the  Sultana  bor- 
rowed the  verses  of  poets  and  the  words  of  popular 
romances,  and  she  fitted  the  tales  and  adventures  one 
within  the  other. 

I.  The  Sea  and  the  Vessel  of  Sindbad. 

II.  The  Tale  of  the  Prince  Kalender. 

III.  The  Young  Prince  and  the  Young  Princess. 

IV.  Feast  at  Bagdad.     The  Sea.     The  Vessel  is 
Wrecked  on  a  Rock  on  which  is  Mounted  a  Warrior 
of  Brass.     Conclusion." 

With  all  the  special  titles  the  whole  cannot  be  re- 
159 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

garded  as  close  description.  It  is  in  no  sense  narra- 
tive music.  The  titles  are  not  in  clear  order  of 
events,  and,  moreover,  they  are  quite  vague. 

In  the  first  number  we  have  the  sea  and  merely  the 
vessel,  not  the  voyages,  of  Sindbad.  Then  the  story 
of  the  Prince  Kalender  cannot  be  distinguished 
among  the  three  tales  of  the  royal  mendicants.  The 
young  prince  and  the  young  princess, — there  are 
many  of  them  in  these  Arabian  fairy  tales,  though 
we  can  guess  at  the  particular  one.  Finally,  in  the 
last  number,  the  title  mentions  an  event  from  the 
story  of  the  third  Prince  Kalender,  where  the  vessel 
(not  of  Sindbad)  is  wrecked  upon  a  rock  surmounted 
by  a  warrior  of  brass.  The  Feast  of  Bagdad  has  no 
special  place  in  any  one  of  the  stories. 

The  truth  is,  it  is  all  a  mirroring  in  tones  of  the 
charm  and  essence  of  these  epic  gems  of  the  East. 
It  is  not  like  the  modern  interlinear  description, 
although  it  might  be  played  during  a  reading  on 
account  of  the  general  agreement  of  the  color  and 
spirit  of  the  music.  But  there  is  the  sense  and  feeling 
of  the  story,  das  Marchen,  and  the  romance  of  adven- 
ture. The  brilliancy  of  harmony,  the  eccentricity  and 
gaiety  of  rhythm  seem  symbolic  and,  in  a  subtle  way, 
descriptive.  As  in  the  subject,  the  stories  themselves, 
there  is  a  luxuriant  imagery,  but  no  sign  of  the  ele- 
ment of  reflection  or  even  of  emotion. 

I. — The  opening  motive,  in  big,  broad  rhythm,  is 
clearly  the  Sea.  Some  have  called  it  the  Sindbad 
160 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

motive.  But  in  essence  these  are  not  very  different. 
The  Sea  is  here  the  very  feeling  and  type  of  adven- 
ture,— nay,  Adventure  itself.  It  is  a  necessary  part 
of  fairy  stories.  Here  it  begins  and  ends  with  its 
rocking  theme,  ever  moving  onward.  It  comes  in 
the  story  of  the  Prince  Kalender. 

The  second  of  the  main  phrases  is  evidently  the 
motive  of  the  fairy  tale  itself,  the  feeling  of  "once 
upon  a  time,"  the  idea  of  story,  that  leads  us  to  the 
events  themselves.  It  is  a.  mere  strumming  of  chords 
of  the  harp,  with  a  vague  line,  lacking  rhythm,  as 
of  musical  prose.  For  rhythm  is  the  type  of  event, 
of  happenings,  of  the  adventure  itself.  So  the  form- 
less phrase  is  the  introduction,  the  narrator,  Marchen 
in  an  Oriental  dress  as  Scherezade. 

The  first  number  passes  for  the  most  part  in  a 
rocking  of  the  motive  of  the  sea,  in  various  moods 
and  movements:  Largo  e  maestoso,  Allegro  non 
troppo, — tranquillo.  At  one  time  even  the  theme 
of  the  story  sings  to  the  swaying  of  the  sea.* 

II. — In  the  tale  of  the  Prince  Kalender  Scherezade, 
of  course,  begins  the  story  as  usual.  Btit  the  main 
thread  is  in  itself  another  interwoven  tale, — Andan- 
tino  Caprictioso,  quasi  redtando,  with  a  solo  in  the 
bassoon  dolce  e  espressivo, — later  poco  piu  mosso, 

*  We  remember  how   Sindbad  was  tempted   after   each 
fortunate    escape   from    terrible   dangers    to   embark    once 
more,  and  how  he  tells  the  story  of  the  seven  voyages  on 
seven  successive  days,  amid  luxury  and  feasting. 
11  161 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

in  violins.*  There  is  most  of  happenings  here.  A 
very  strident  phrase  that  plays  in  the  brass  Allegro 
molto,  may  be  some  hobgoblin,  or  rather  an  evil 
jinn,  that  holds  the  princess  captive  and  wrecks 
the  hero's  vessel.  The  sea,  too,  plays  a  tempestuous 
part  at  the  same  time  with  the  impish  mischief  of 
the  jinn. 

III. — The  third  number  is  the  idyll, — both  of  the 
stories  and  of  the  music.  Here  we  are  nearest  to  a 
touch  of  sentiment, — apart  from  the  mere  drama  of 
haps  and  mishaps,  f  But  there  are  all  kinds  of 

*  In  the  old  version  the  word  "  Calender  "  is  used ;  in  the 
new  translation  by  Lane  we  read  of  "  The  Three  Royal 
Mendicants."  In  certain  ancient  editions  they  are  called 
Karendelees," — i.e.,  "  miserable  beggars."  Each  of  the 
three  had  lost  an  eye  in  the  course  of  his  misfortunes. 
The  story  (of  the  Third  Kalender)  begins  with  the  wreck 
of  the  prince's  vessel  on  the  mountain  of  loadstone  and 
the  feat  of  the  prince,  who  shoots  the  brazen  horseman 
on  top  of  the  mountain  and  so  breaks  the  charm.  But 
there  is  a  long  chain  of  wonders  and  of  troubles,  of  evil 
enchantments  and  of  fateful  happenings. 

•j-  The  story,  if  any  particular  one  is  in  the  mind  of  the 
composer,  is  probably  that  of  the  Prince  Kamar-ez-Zeman 
and  the  Princess  Budoor.  In  the  quality  of  the  romance  it 
approaches  the  legends  of  a  later  age  of  chivalry.  In  the 
main  it  is  the  long  quest  and  the  final  meeting  of  a  prince 
and  a  princess,  living  in  distant  kingdoms.  Through  the 
magic  of  genii  they  have  seen  each  other  once  and  have  ex- 
changed rings.  The  rest  of  the  story  is  a  long  search  one 
for  the  other.  There  are  good  and  evil  spirits,  long  jour- 
neys by  land  and  sea,  and  great  perils.  It  is  an  Arab 
story  of  the  proverbial  course  of  true  love. 
162 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

special  events.  There  is  no  prelude  of  the  narrator. 
The  idyll  begins  straightway,  Andantino  quasi  alle- 
gretto, winds  through  all  kinds  of  scenes  and  storms, 
then  sings  again  dolce  e  cantabile.  Here,  at  last, 
the  Scherezade  phrase  is  heard  on  the  violin  solo,  to 
chords  of  the  harp ;  but  presently  it  is  lost  in  the  con- 
cluding strains  of  the  love  story. 

IV. — The  last  number  begins  with  the  motive  of  the 
sea,  like  the  first,  but  Allegro  molto,  again  followed 
by  the  phrase  of  the  story  teller.  The  sea  returns 
Allegro  molto  e  frenetico  in  full  force,  and  likewise 
the  vague  motive  of  the  story  in  a  cadenza  of  violin 
solo.  Then  Vivo  comes  the  dance,  the  pomp  and 
gaiety  of  the  Festival,  with  tripping  tambourine  and 
strings  and  the  song  first  in  the  flutes.*  Presently 
a  reminder  of  the  sea  intrudes, — con  forza  in  lower 
wood  and  strings.  But  other  familiar  figures  flit  by, 
— the  evil  jinn  and  the  love-idyll.  Indeed  the  latter 
has  a  full  verse, — in  the  midst  of  the  carnival. 

Right  out  of  the  festival,  rather  in  full  festal 
array,  we  seem  to  plunge  into  the  broad  movement 
of  the  surging  sea,  Allegro  non  troppo  e  maestoso, 
straight  on  to  the  fateful  event.  There  are  no  sighs 
and  tears.  Placidly  the  waves  play  softly  about.  And 
dolce  e  capriccioso  the  siren  Scherezade  once  more 
reappears  to  conclude  the  tale. 

*  We  may  think  of  the  revels  of  Sindbad  before  the  re- 
turning thirst  for  adventure. 


163 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

RACHMANINOW.    SYMPHONY  IN  E  MINOR  * 

I. — The  symphony  begins  with  the  sombre  temper 
of  modern  Russian  art;  at  the  outset  it  seems  to 
throb  with  inmost  feeling,  uttered  in  subtlest  design. 

The  slow  solemn  prelude  (Largo}  opens  with  the 


Largo 


(Strings)  flf)  _ 
Oon  Sve. 

chief  phrase  of  the  work  in  lowest  strings  to  ominous 
chords,  and  treats  it  with  passionate  stress  until  the 
main  pace  of  Allegro. 

Espr.  (Violins) 

*A 


But  the  germ  of  prevailing  legend  lies  deeper.  The 
work  is  one  of  the  few  symphonies  where  the  whole 
is  reared  on  a  smallest  significant  phrase.  The  first 
strain  (of  basses)  is  indeed  the  essence  of  the  follow- 
ing melody  and  in  turn  of  the  main  Allegro  theme. 
But,  to  probe  still  further,  we  cannot  help  feeling 

*  Sergei    Rachmaninow,    born    in    1873. 
164 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 


an  ultimate,  briefest  motive  of  single  ascending  tone 
against  intrinsic  obstacle,  wonderfully  expressed  in 
the  harmony,  with  a  mingled  sense  of  resolution  and 
regret.  And  of  like  moment  is  the  reverse  descending 
tone.  Both  of  these  symbols  reappear  throughout  the 
symphony,  separate  or  blended  in  larger  melody,  as 
principal  or  accompanying  figures.  Aside  from  this 
closer  view  that  makes  clear  the  tissue  of  themal 
discussion,  the  first  phrase  is  the  main  melodic  motto, 
that  is  instantly  echoed  in  violins  with  piquant  har- 
mony. In  the  intricate  path  of  deep  musing  we  feel 
the  mantle  of  a  Schumann  who  had  himself  a  kind  of 
heritage  from  Bach.  And  thus  we  come  to  see  the 
national  spirit  best  and  most  articulate  through  the 
medium  of  ancient  art. 

The  main  Allegro  melody  not  so  much  grows  out 
of  the  Largo  prelude,  as  it  is  of  the  same  fibre  and 

Allegro  moderato  ""^  ***'  O^M*/; 
4  times 


(Strings  with 
clarinets  and  bassoons) 


identity.     The  violins  sing  here  against  a  stately 

march   of  harmonies.     Such   is  the  fine  coherence 

165 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


that  the  mere  heralding  rhythm  is  wrought  of  the 
first  chords  of  the  Largo,  with  their  descending  stress. 
And  the  expressive  melody  is  of  the  same  essence 
as  the  original  sighing  motto,  save  with  a  shift  of 
accent  that  gives  a  new  fillip  of  motion.  In  this 
movement  at  least  we  see  the  type  of  real  symphony, 
that  throbs  and  sings  and  holds  us  in  the  thrall  of  its 
spirit  and  song. 

Moments  there  are  here  of  light  and  joy,  quickly 
drooping  to  the  darker  mood.  Following  the  free 
flight  of  main  melody  is  a  skein  of  quicker  figures, 
on  aspirant  pulse,  answered  by  broad,  tragic  descent 
in  minor  tones. 

Milder,  more  tranquil  sings  .now  the  second  mel- 
ody, a  striking  embodiment  of  the  sense  of  striving 
ascent.  Chanted  in  higher  reeds,  it  is  immediately 


(Oboes  and  clarinets) 

(Violins) 


(Oboes 
and  clar'ts) 


(Pizz.  strings) 

followed  and  accompanied  by  an  expressive  answer  in 
the  strings.  On  the  wing  of  this  song  we  rise  to  a 
height  where  begins  the  path  of  a  brief  nervous 
motive  (of  the  first  notes  of  the  symphony)  that  with 
166 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

the  descending  tone  abounds  in  various  guise.  As  a 
bold  glance  at  the  sun  is  punished  by  a  sight  of  solar 
figures  all  about,  so  we  feel  throughout  the  tonal 
story  the  presence  of  these  symbols.  An  epilogue  of 
wistful  song  leads  to  the  repeated  melodies. 

The  main  figure  of  the  plot  that  follows  is  the  first 
melody,  now  in  slow,  graceful  notes,  now  in  feverish 
pace,  though  the  brief  (second)  motive  moves  con- 
stantly here  and  there.  A  darkest  descent  follows 
into  an  Avernus  of  deep  brooding  on  the  legend,  with 
an  ascending  path  of  the  brief,  nervous  phrase  and  a 
reverse  fall,  that  finally  wears  out  its  own  despair 
and  ends  in  a  sombre  verse  of  the  prelude,  with  new 
shades  of  melancholy,  then  plunges  into  an  over- 
whelming burst  on  the  sighing  phrase.  Thence  the 
path  of  brooding  begins  anew;  but  it  is  now  ascend- 
ant, on  the  dual  pulse  of  the  poignant  motto  and  the 
brief,  nervous  motive.  The  whole  current  of  passion 
is  thus  uttered  in  the  prelude  strain  that  at  the  outset 
was  pregnant  with  feeling.  At  the  crisis  it  is  an- 
swered or  rather  interwoven  with  a  guise  of  the  second 
theme,  in  hurried  pace,  chanted  by  stentorian  brass 
and  wood  in  hallooing  chorus  that  reaches  a  high 
exultation.  To  be  sure  the  Eussian  at  his  gladdest 
seems  tinged  with  sense  of  fate.  So  from  the  single 
burst  we  droop  again.  But  the  gloom  is  pierced  by 
brilliant  shafts, — herald  calls  (of  brass  and  wood) 
that  raise  the  mood  of  the  returning  main  melody, 
and  in  their  continuous  refrain  add  a  buoyant 
stimulus.  And  the  verse  of  quicker  figures  has  a  new 
167 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

fire  and  ferment.  All  absent  is  the  former  descent 
of  minor  tones.  Instead,  in  solemn  hush  of  tempest, 
without  the  poignant  touch,  the  tranquil  second  mel- 
ody returns  with  dulcet  answer  of  strings.  A  loveliest 
verse  is  of  this  further  song  where,  in  a  dual  chase 
of  tune,  the  melody  moves  in  contained  rapture.  In 
the  cadence  is  a  transfigured  phase  of  the  ascending 
tone,  mingled  with  the  retiring  melody,  all  woven 
to  a  soothing  cadence. 

But  the  struggle  is  not  over,  nor  is  redemption 
near.  The  dulcet  phrases  sink  once  more  to  sombre 
depth  where  there  is  a  final,  slow-gathering  burst 
of  passion  on  the  motto,  with  a  conclusive  ring  almost 
of  fierce  triumph. 

//. — The  second  movement,  Allegro  molto,  is  a 
complete  change  from  introspection  and  passion  to  an 

Allegro  molto 
(Insistent  strum 
of  strings) 


f        Marcato 

abandon  as  of  primitive  dance.     Strings  stir  the 

feet;  the  horns  blow  the  first  motive  of  the  savage 

tune;  the  upper  wood  fall  in  with  a  dashing  jingle, — 

like  a  stroke  of  cymbals  across  the  hostile  harmonies. 

Whether  a  recurring  idiom  is  merely  personal  or 

belongs  to  the  special  work  is  difficult  to  tell.     In 

reality  it  matters  little.     Here  the  strange  rising 

168 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

tone  is  the  same  as  in  the  former  (second)  melody. 
In  the  rude  vigor  of  harmonies  the  primitive  idea 
is  splendidly  stressed. 

Right  in  the  answer  is  a  guise  of  short,  nervous 
phrase,  that  gets  a  new  touch  of  bizarre  by  a  leap  of 
the  seventh  from  below.  In  this  figure  that  moves 
throughout  the  symphony  we  see  an  outward  symbol 
of  an  inner  connection. — Bells  soon  lend  a  festive 
ring  to  the  main  tune. 

In  quieter  pace  conies  a  tranquil  song  of  lower 
voices  with  a  companion  melody  above, — all  in  serene 
major.  Though  it  grew  naturally  out  of  the  rude 


8ve. 


dance,  the  tune  has  a  contrasting  charm  of  idyll  and, 
too,  harks  back  to  the  former  lyric  strains  that  fol- 
lowed the  second  melody.  When  the  dance  returns, 
there  is  instead  of  discussion  a  mere  extension  of 
main  motive  in  full  chorus. 

But  here  in  the  midst  the  balance  is  more  than 

restored.     From  the  dance  that  ceases  abruptly  we 

go  straight  to  school  or  rather   cloister.     On   our 

recurring  nervous  phrase  a  fugue  is  rung  with  all 

169 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


pomp  and  ceremony  (meno  mosso) ;  and  of  the  dance 
there  are  mere  faint  echoing  memories,  when  the 

(Oboe) 
Mtno  mosso     f  m^lto  marcato 


(Violins)  staccato 
motto  marcato 

fugal  text  seems  for  a  moment  to  weave  itself  into 
the  first  tune. 

Instead,  comes  into  the  midst  of  sermon  a  hymnal 
chant,  blown  gently  by  the  brass,  while  other  stray 


OonSve. 

voices  run  lightly  on  the  thread  of  fugue.  There  is, 
indeed,  a  playful  suggestion  of  the  dance  somehow  in 
the  air.  A  final  tempest  of  the  fugue  *  brings  us 

*  It  is  of  the  first  two  notes  of  the  symphony  that  the 
fugal  theme  is  made.  For  though  it  is  longer  in  the 
strings,  the  brief  motion  is  ever  accented  in  the  wood. 
Thus  relentless  is  the  themal  coherence.  If  we  care  to  look 
closer  we  see  how  the  (following)  chant  is  a  slower  form 
of  the  fugal  theme,  while  the  bass  is  in  the  line  of  the 
dance-tune.  In  the  chant  in  turn  we  cannot  escape  a  re- 
minder, if  not  a  likeness,  of  the  second  theme  of  the  first 
movement. 

170 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 


back  to  the  full  verse  of  dance  and  the  following 
melodies.  But  before  the  end  sounds  a  broad  hymnal 
line  in  the  brass  with  a  dim  thread  of  the  fugue,  and 
the  figures  steal  away  in  solemn  stillness. 

///. — The  Adagio  has  one  principal  burden,  first 
borne  by  violins, — that  rises  from  the  germ  of  earlier 
Adagio 


(Strings  with  added  harmony  in  bassoons  and  horns) 

•j&  j— r£n .  J^ 


lyric  strains.  Then  the  clarinet  joins  in  a  quiet 
madrigal  of  tender  phrases.  We  are  tempted  to  find 
here  an  influence  from  a  western  fashion,  a  taint  of 
polythemal  virtuosity,  in  this  mystic  maze  of  many 
strains  harking  from  all  corners  of  the  work,  without 
a  gain  over  an  earlier  Russian  simplicity.  Even  the 
Slavic  symphony  seems  to  have  fallen  into  a  state 
of  artificial  cunning,  where  all  manners  of  greater 
171 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


(Solo  clarinet) 
mfetpreas. 

K*     r" 


q*gg=  S=*3  i'' y»] 

^gg^g^^gFf^^P 


(Divided  jD/D 
strings) 

poco  crese 


attn. 


or  lesser  motives  are  packed  close  in  a  tangled  mass. 

It  cannot  be  said  that  a  true  significance  is  achieved 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  concerting  themes. 
We  might  dilate  on  the  sheer  inability  of  the  hearer 
to  grasp  a  clear  outline  in  such  a  multiple  plot. 

There  is  somehow  a  false  kind  of  polyphony,  a 
too  great  facility  of  spurious  counterpoint,  that  differs 
subtly  though  sharply  from  the  true  art  where  the 
number  entails  no  loss  of  individual  quality;  where 
the  separate  melodies  move  by  a  divine  fitness  that 
measures  the  perfect  conception  of  the  multiple  idea ; 
where  there  is  no  thought  of  a  later  padding  to  give 
a  shimmer  of  profound  art.  It  is  here  that  the  sym- 
172 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

phony  is  in  danger  from  an  exotic  style  that  had  its 
origin  in  German  music-drama. 

From  this  point  the  Eachmaninow  symphony  lan- 
guishes in  the  fountain  of  its  fresh  inspiration,  seems 
consciously  constructed  with  calculating  care. 

There  is,  after  all,  no  virtue  in  itself  in  mere 
themal  interrelation, — in  particular  of  lesser  phrases. 
One  cogent  theme  may  well  prevail  as  text  of  the 
whole.  As  the  recurring  motives  are  multiplied,  they 
must  lose  individual  moment.  The  listener's  grasp 
becomes  more  difficult,  until  there  is  at  best  a  mystic 
maze,  a  sweet  chaos,  without  a  clear  melodic  thought. 
It  cannot  be  maintained  that  the  perception  of  the 
modern  audience  has  kept  pace  with  the  complexity  of 
scores.  Yet  there  is  no  gainsaying  an  alluring  beauty  of 
these  waves  of  sound  rising  to  fervent  height  in  the 
main  melody  that  is  expressive  of  a  modern  wistfulness. 

But  at  the  close  is  a  fierce  outbreak  of  the  first 
motto,  with  a  defiance  of  regret,  in  faster,  reckless 
pace,  brief,  but  suddenly  recurring.  Exquisite  is  this 

(Ob.)  mf  cantnbile 


Caniabile 


a^"u         \T  I  ^ ~1 

fr         ^  L    ^ J 


(Strings,  wood  and  horns) 

cooing  of  voices  in  mournful  bits  of  the  motto,  with 
a  timid  upper  phrase  in  the  descending  tone. 
173 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


On  we  go  in  the  piling  of  Ossa  on  Pelion,  where 
the  motto  and  even  the  Scherzo  dance  lend  their  text. 
Yet  all  is  fraught  with  sentient  beauty  as,  rising  in 
Titanic  climb,  it  plunges  into  an  overwhelming  cry 
in  the  Adagio  melody.  Throughout,  the  ascending 
and  descending  tones,  close  interwoven,  give  a 
blended  hue  of  arduous  striving  and  regret. 

After  a  pause  follow  a  series  of  refrains  of  solo 
voices  in  the  melody,  with  muted  strings,  with  mingled 
strains  of  the  motto.  In  the  bass  is  an  undulation  that 
recalls  the  second  theme  of  former  movement.  And 
the  clarinet  returns  with  its  mystic  madrigal  of  melo- 
dy; now  the  Adagio  theme  enters  and  gives  it  point 
and  meaning.  In  one  more  burst  it  sings  in  big  and  lit- 
tle in  the  same  alluring  harmony,  whence  it  dies  down 
to  soothing  close  in  brilliant  gamut  as  of  sinking  sun. 

IV. — Allegro  vivace.    Throwing  aside  the  clinging 


Allegro  vivace 


^(Strings,1 
wood  and1 
horns  with  reinforced  harmonies) 

fragments  of  fugue  in  the  prelude  we  rush  into  a 

gaiety  long  sustained.    Almost  strident  is  the  ruthless 

merriment;  we  are  inclined  to  fear  that  the  literal 

174 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 


coherence  of  theme  is  greater  than  the  inner  connec- 
tion of  mood.  At  last  the  romp  hushes  to  a  whisper  of 
drum,  with  strange  patter  of  former  dance.  And  fol- 
lowing and  accompanying  it  is  a  new  hymnal  (or  is 
it  martial)  line,  as  it  were  the  reverse  of  the  other 


(Reeds  and  horns) 


(Strings  with  the  quicker 
dance  phrase  of  2d  movement) 

chant.  The  gay  figures  flit  timidly  back, — a  struggle 
'twixt  pleasure  and  fate, — but  soon  regain  control. 

If  we  cared  to  interpret,  we  might  find  in  the 
Finale  a  realized  aspiration.  The  truth  is  the  humors 
of  the  themal  phrases,  as  of  the  movements,  jar :  they 
are  on  varying  planes.  The  coarser  vein  of  the  last 
is  no  solace  to  the  noble  grief  of  the  foregoing. 

Again  the  change  or  series  of  moods  is  not  clearly 
defined.  They  seem  a  parade  of  visions.  The  hymn 
may  be  viewed  as  a  guise  of  the  former  chant  of  the 
Scherzo,  with  the  dance-trip  in  lowest  bass. 

Straight  from  the  rush  and  romp  we  plunge  anew 
into  a  trance  of  sweet  memories.  The  lyric  vein  here 
binds  together  earlier  strains,  whose  kinship  had  not 
appeared.  They  seemed  less  significant,  hidden  as 
subsidiary  ideas.  If  we  care  to  look  back  we  find 
a  germ  of  phrase  in  the  first  Prelude,  and  then  the 
175 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


answer  of  the  second  (Allegro)  theme  of  first  move- 
ment. There  was,  too,  the  sweep  of  dual  melody 
following  the  rude  dance  of  Scherzo.  Above  all  is 
here  the  essence  and  spirit  of  the  central  Adagio 
melody  of  the  symphony. 

The  answering  strain  is  of  high  beauty,  with  a 
melting  sense  of  farewell.    From  the  sad  ecstasy  is  a 

(Strings  with  higher  and  lower  8ve.) 

J 


,  r 

mf  s£^(Wood  and 
horns  in  8ves.) 


(Basses  of  strings  and  reeds' 


descent  to  mystic  musing,  where  abound  the  symbols 
of  rising  and  falling  tones.  More  and  more  moving 
is  the  climactic  melody  of  regret  with  a  blended  song 
in  large  and  little.  Most  naturally  it  sinks  into  a  full 
verse  of  the  Adagio  tune — whence  instantly  is 
aroused  a  new  battle  of  moods. 

While  the  dance  capers  below,  above  is  the  sobbing 
phrase  from  the  heart  of  the  Adagio.  The  trip  falls 
into  the  pace  of  hymnal  march.  The  shadows  of 
many  figures  return.  Here  is  the  big  descending 
scale  in  tragic  minor  from  the  first  movement.  Large 
it  looms,  in  bass  and  treble.  Answering  it  is  a  figure 
of  sustained  thirds  that  recalls  the  former  second 
(Allegro)  melody.  And  still  the  trip  of  dance  goes  on. 

176 


THE  NEO-RUSSIANS 

Sharpest  and  strongest  of  all  these  memories  is  the 
big  sigh  of  sombre  harmonies  from  the  first  Largo 
prelude,  answered  by  the  original  legend.  And  the 
dance  still  goes  tripping  on  and  the  tones  rumble  in 
descent. 

The  dance  has  vanished ;  no  sound  but  the  drone  of 
dull,  falling  tones,  that  multiply  like  the  spirits  of 
the  sorcerer  apprentice,  in  large  form  and  small, 
with  the  big  rumbling  in  a  quick  patter  as  of  scurry- 
ing mice. 

Suddenly  a  new  spirit  enters  with  gathering  vol- 
ume and  warmer  harmony.  As  out  of  a  dream  we 
gradually  emerge,  at  the  end  with  a  shock  of  welcome 
to  light  and  day,  as  we  awake  to  the  returning  glad 
dance.  And  here  is  a  new  entrancing  countertune 
above  that  crowns  the  joy. 

Once  again  the  skip  falls  into  the  ominous  descent 
with  the  phantom  of  Scherzo  dance  in  basses.  Now 
returns  the  strange  hymnal  line  of  march  and  the 
other  anxious  hue. 

But  quickly  they  are  transformed  into  the  tempest 
of  gaiety  in  full  parade.  When  a  new  burst  is 
preparing,  we  see  the  sighing  figure  all  changed  to 
opposite  mood.  The  grim  tune  of  Scherzo  dance 
enters  mysteriously  in  big  and  little  and  slowly  takes 
on  a  softened  hue,  losing  the  savage  tinge. 

After  the  returning  dance,  the  farewell  melody 
sings  from  full  throat.  Before  the  ending  revel  we 
may  feel  a  glorified  guise  of  the  sombre  legend  of  the 
symphony. 

12  177 


CHAPTER  XII 
SIBELIUS.     A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY* 

WE  must  expect  that  the  music  of  newer  nations 
will  be  national.  It  goes  without  saying;  for 
the  music  comes  fresh  from  the  soil ;  it  is  not  the  re- 
sult of  long  refined  culture.  There  is  the  strain  and 
burst  of  a  burden  of  racial  feeling  to  utter  itself  in 
the  most  pliant  and  eloquent  of  all  the  languages  of 
emotion.  It  is  the  first  and  noblest  sentiment  of 
every  nation  conscious  of  its  own  worth,  and  it  has 
its  counterpart  in  the  individual.  Before  the  utter- 
ance has  been  found  by  a  people,  before  it  has  felt 
this  sense  of  its  own  quality,  no  other  message  can 
come.  So  the  most  glorious  period  in  the  history 
of  every  country  (even  in  the  eyes  of  other  nations) 
is  the  struggle  for  independence,  whether  successful 
or  not. 

All  on  a  new  plane  is  this  northernmost  symphony, 
with  a  crooning  note  almost  of  savage,  and  sudden, 
fitful  bursts  from  languorous  to  fiery  mood.  The 
harmony,  the  turn  of  tune  have  a  national  quality, 
delicious  and  original,  though  the  Oriental  tinge 

*  Symphony  No.  1,  in  E  minor,  by  Jan  Sibelius,  born  in 
1865. 

178 


A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY 


appears,  as  in  Slav  and  Magyar  music,  both  in  bold 
and  in  melancholy  humor.  Though  full  of  strange 
and  warm  colors,  the  harmonic  scheme  is  simple; 
rather  is  the  work  a  tissue  of  lyric  rhapsody  than 
the  close-woven  plot  of  tonal  epic.  A  certain  trace 
of  revery  does  find  a  vent  in  the  traditional  art  of 
contrary  melodies.  But  a  constant  singing  in  pairs 
is  less  art  than  ancient  folk-manner,  like  primal 
music  in  the  love  or  dance  songs  of  savages. 

The  symphony  begins  with  a  quiet  rhapsody  of 
solo  clarinet  in  wistful  minor,  clear  without  chords, 
though  there  is  a  straying  into  major.  There  is  no 
accompaniment  save  a  soft  roll  of  drum,  and  that 
soon  dies  away. 

Andante,  ma  non  troppo  

1 — !— =- 


*t 


mfespress.- 
(Clarinet) 

The  rhapsody  seems  too  vague  for  melody;  yet 
there  are  motives,  one  in  chief,  winding  to  a  pause ; 
here  is  a  new  appealing  phrase;  the  ending  is  in  a 


return  to  the  first.  Over  the  whole  symphony  is  cast 
the  hue  of  this  rhapsody,  both  in  mood  and  in  the 
literal  tone. 

179 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


All  opposite,  with  sudden  spring  of  buoyant  strings, 
strikes  the  Allegro  tune  ending  in  a  quick,  dancing 
trip.  The  first  voice  is  immediately  pursued  by  an- 


Allegro  energieo 


Piu  forte 
(Violins  with 
higher  8ve.) 


(Cellos  with  higher 
8ve.  in  violas) 

other  in  similar  phase,  like  a  gentler  shadow,  and  soon 
rises  to  a  passionate  chord  that  is  the  main  idiom 
of  the  movement. 


fz         dim.  motto 

4=i==4< 


(Strings,  wood  and  horns) 

A  second  theme  in  clear-marked  tones  of  reed  and 
horns,  as  of  stern  chant,  is  taken  up  in  higher  wood 
and  grows  to  graceful  melody  in  flowing  strings. 
180 


A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY 


There  is  a  series  of  flights  to  an  ever  higher  perch  of 
harmony  until  the  first  Allegro  motive  rings  out  in 
fullest  chorus,  again  with  the  companion  tune  and 
the  cadence  of  poignant  dissonance. 

A  new  episode  comes  with  shimmering  of  harp  and 
strings,  where  rare  and  dainty  is  the  sense  of  primal 

-    \J/lUt»68/  •          •          • 


(Strings  with 
chord  of  harp) 


181 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

harmony  that  lends  a  pervading  charm  to  the  sym- 
phony. Here  the  high  wood  has  a  song  in  constant 
thirds,  right  from  the  heart  of  the  rhapsody,  all 
bedecked  as  melody  with  a  new  rhythm  and  answer. 
Soon  this  simple  lay  is  woven  in  a  skein  of  pairs  of 
voices,  meeting  or  diverging.  But  quickly  we  are 
back  in  the  trance  of  lyric  song,  over  palpitating 
strings,  with  the  refrain  very  like  the  former  com- 
panion phrase  that  somehow  leads  or  grows  to  a 

Tranquillo 
j        (Oboe,  with  other  wood) 


rhythmic  verse  of  the  first  strain  of  the  rhapsody. 
Here  begins  a  long  mystic  phase  of  straying  voices 
(of  the  wood)  in  the  crossing  figures  of  the  song,  in 
continuous  fantasy  that  somehow  has  merged  into  the 
line  of  second  Allegro  theme,  winging  towards  a  bril- 
liant height  where  the  strings  ring  out  the  strain  amid 
sharp  cries  of  the  brass  in  startling  hues  of  harmony 
and  electric  calls  from  the  first  rhapsody. 

From  Out  the  maze  and  turmoil  the  shadowy  mel- 
ody rises  in  appealing  beauty  like  heavenly  vision 
and  lo !  is  but  a  guise  of  the  first  strain  of  rhapsody. 
It  rises  amid  flashes  of  fiery  brass  in  bewildering 
blare  of  main  theme,  then  sinks  again  to  the  depth 
182 


A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY 

of  brooding,  though  the  revery  of  the  appealing 
phrase  has  a  climactic  height  of  its  own,  with  the 
strange,  palpitating  harmonies. 

In  a  new  meditation  on  bits  of  the  first  Allegro 
theme  sounds  suddenly  a  fitful  burst  of  the  second, 
that  presently  emerges  in  triumphant,  sovereign  song. 
Again,  o.n  a  series  of  flights  the  main  theme  is 
reached  and  leaps  once  more  to  impassioned  height. 

But  this  is  followed  by  a  still  greater  climax  of 
moving  pathos  whence  we  descend  once  more  to  lyric 
meditation  (over  trembling  strings).  Follows  a  final 
tempest  and  climax  of  the  phrase  of  second  theme. 

The  movement  thus  ends,  not  in  joyous  exultation, 
but  in  a  fierce  triumph  of  sombre  minor. 

The  Andante  is  purest  folk-melody,  and  it  is 
strange  how  we  know  this,  though  we  do  not  know  the 
special  theme.  We  cannot  decry  the  race-element  as  a 
rich  fount  of  melody.  While  older  nations  strive 
and  strain,  it  pours  forth  by  some  mystery  in  prodi- 
gal flow  with  less  tutored  peoples  who  are  singing 
their  first  big  song  to  the  world.  Only,  the  ultimate 
goal  for  each  racial  inspiration  must  be  a  greater 
universal  celebration. 

The  lyric  mood  is  regnant  here,  in  a  melody  that, 
springing  from  distant  soil,  speaks  straight  to  every 
heart,  above  all  with  the  concluding  refrain.  It  is  of 
the  purest  vein,  of  the  primal  fount,  deeper  than 
mere  racial  turn  or  trait.  Moreover,  with  a  whole 
coronet  of  gems  of  modern  harmony,  it  has  a  broad 
swing  and  curve  that  gives  the  soothing  sense  of  fire- 
183 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Andante  ma  non  troppo  lento 
(Muted  violins) 


•*2~*  i — v«y    **jt  M  J  J  • 


I     fa*   .    -       i    &;-         —       — i 


^^ 


(Sustained  horns  and  basses  with 
lower  8ve.;  constant  stroke  of  harp) 


(Clarinets) 


side;  it  bears  a  burden  of  elemental,  all-contenting 
emotion.  In  the  main,  the  whole  movement  is  one 
lyric  flight.  But  there  come  the  moods  of  musing 
and  rhapsodic  rapture.  In  a  brief  fugal  vein  is  a 
mystic  harking  back  to  the  earlier  prelude.  In  these 
lesser  phrases  are  the  foil  or  counter-figures  for  the 
bursts  of  the  melody. 

It  is  the  first  motive  of  the  main  tune  that  is  the 
refrain  in  ever  higher  and  more  fervent  exclama- 
tion, or  in  close  pressing  chase  of  voices.  Then 
follows  a  melting  episode,^ — some  golden  piece  of  the 
melody  in  plaintive  cellos,  'neath  tremulous  wood  or 
delicate  choirs  of  strings. 

But  there  is  a  second  tune,  hardly  less  moving, 
184 


A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY 

in  dulcet  group  of  horns  amid  shimmering  strings 
and  harp,  with  a  light  bucolic  answer  in  playful  reed. 


Molto  tr 


anquiUo  (Vw.ii8) 


And  it  has  a  glowing  climax,  too,  with  fiery  trumpet, 
and  dashing  strings  and  clashing  wood. 

Gorgeous  in  the  warm  depth  of  horns  sound  now 
the  returning  tones  of  the  first  noble  melody,  with 
playful  trill  of  the  wood,  in  antiphonal  song  of  trum- 
pets and  strings.  And  there  are  revels  of  new  turns 
of  the  tune  (where  the  stirring  harmony  seems  the 
best  of  all)  that  will  rise  to  a  frenzy  of  tintinnabula- 
tion. A  quicker  countertheme  lends  life  and  motion 
to  all  this  play  and  plot. 

A  big,  solemn   stride  of  the  middle  strain    (of 
main  melody)  precedes  the  last  returning  verse,  with 
all  the  tender  pathos  of  the  beginning. 
1S5 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


The  Scherzo  is  wild  race-feeling  let  loose  —  national 
music  that  has  not  yet  found  a  melody.  Significantly 
the  drums  begin  the  tune,  to  a  dancing  strain  of 
pizzicato  strings.  The  tune  is  so  elemental  that  the 


(Violins) 


J.   J. 


J.    I 


jr  rTT  r  r 

(Pizz.  cellos  doubled  above  in  violas) 

drums  can  really  play  it ;  the  answer  is  equally  rude, 
— an  arpeggio  motive  of  strings  against  quick  runs 
of  the  higher  wood.  Out  of  it  grows  a  tinge  of  tune 
with  a  fresh  spring  of  dance, — whence  returns  the 
first  savage  motive.  This  is  suddenly  changed  to  the 
guise  of  a  fugal  theme,  with  new  close,  that  starts 
a  maze  of  disputation. 

Eight  from  the  full  fire  of  the  rough  dance,  sad- 
stressed  chords  plunge  into  a  moving  plaint  with 
much  sweetness  of  melody  and  higher  counter-melody. 
Then  returns  again  the  original  wild  rhythm. 


Frr 


186 


A  FINNISH  SYMPHONY 

In  the  last  movement  the  composer  confesses  the 
"Fantasy"  in  the  title.  It  begins  with  a  broad 
sweep  of  the  returning  rhapsody,  the  prologue  of  the 
symphony,  though  without  the  former  conclusion. 
Now  it  sings  in  a  strong  unison  of  the  strings  larga- 
mente  ed  appassionato,  and  with  clang  of  chord  in 
lower  brass.  The  appealing  middle  phrase  is  all  dis- 
guised in  strum  as  of  dance.  The  various  strains 
sing  freely  in  thirds,  with  sharp  punctuating  chords. 
Throughout  is  a  balance  of  the  pungent  vigor  of  har- 
monies with  dulcet  melody. 

In  sudden  rapid  pace  the  strumming  figure  dances 
in  the  lower  reed,  then  yields  to  the  play  (in  the 
strings)  of  a  lively  (almost  comic)  tune  of  a  strong 
national  tinge, — a  kind  that  seems  native  to  northern 
countries  and  is  not  unlike  a  strain  that  crept  into 

Allegro  motto 

&          &          * 


A    >)     Qri,  ;.•._  J_^ » 

4^r  rvrr^Ff 
4=L^-'  « 


m. 

American  song*.  A  tempest  of  pranks  is  suddenly 
halted  before  the  entrance  of  a  broad  melody,  with 
underlying  harmonies  of  latent  passion.  The  feeling 
of  fantasy  is  in  the  further  flow,  with  free  singing 
chords  of  harp.  But  ever  between  the  lines  creeps 
in  the  strumming  phrase,  from  the  first  prelude, 
returned  to  its  earlier  mood. 
187 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Andante  assai 
I-'       (Violins)  cantdbile  ed  espressivo 


^     ^     ^        t  fe      £.. 

(IVmoZo  cellos,  with  f  | 

lower  C  in  basses) 

With  baffling  mystery  anon  come  other  appealing 
phrases  from  the  beginning,  that  show  the  whole  to  be 
the  woof  almost  of  a  single  figure,  or  at  least  to  lie 
within  the  poetic  scope  of  the  prologue.  A  fugal 
revel  of  the  comic  phrase  with  the  quick  strum  as 
counter-theme  ends  in  a  new  carnival, — here  a  dashing 
march,  there  a  mad  chase  of  strident  harmonies. 
Now  sings  the  full  romance  and  passion  of  the  melody 
through  the  whole  gamut  from  pathos  to  rapture. 
It  ends  with  poignant  stress  of  the  essence  of  the  song, 
with  sheerest  grating  of  straining  harmonies.  In  the 
midst,  too,  is  again  the  mystic  symbol  from  the  heart 
of  the  prelude.  Then  with  a  springing  recoil  comes 
a  last  jubilation,  though  still  in  the  prevailing  minor, 
with  a  final  coursing  of  the  quick  theme. 

The  whole  is  a  broad  alternation  of  moods,  of  wild 
abandon  and  of  tender  feeling, — the  natural  dual 
quality  of  primal  music.  So,  at  least  in  the  Finale, 
this  is  a  Finnish  fantasy,  on  the  very  lines  of  other 
national  rhapsody, 

188 


CHAPTER  XIII 
BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

IN  the  music  of  modern  Bohemia  is  one  of  the  most 
vital  utterances  of  the  folk-spirit.  The  critic 
may  not  force  a  correspondence  of  politics  and  art 
to  support  his  theory.  Yet  a  cause  may  here  be  found 
as  in  Russia  and  Finland.  ( Poland  and  Hungary  had 
their  earlier  song).  There  is  a  sincerity,  an  unpre- 
meditated quality  in  Bohemian  music  that  is  not 
found  among  its  western  neighbors.  The  spirit  is  its 
own  best  proof,  without  a  conscious  stress  of  a 
national  note.  Indeed,  Bohemian  music  is  striking, 
not  at  all  in  a  separate  tonal  character,  like  Hun- 
garian, but  rather  in  a  subtle  emotional  intensity, 
which  again  differs  from  the  wild  abandon  of  the 
Magyars.  An  expression  it  must  be  of  a  national 
feeling  that  has  for  ages  been  struggling  against 
absorption.  Since  ancient  times  Bohemia  has  been  part 
of  a  Teutonic  empire.  The  story  of  its  purely  native 
kings  is  not  much  more  than  legendary.  Nor  has  it 
shared  the  harder  fate  of  other  small  nations ;  for  the 
Teuton  rule  at  least  respected  its  separate  unity. 

But  the  long  association  with  the  German  people 

has  nearly  worn  away  the  racial  signs  and  hall-marks 

of  its  folk-song.    A  Bohemian  tune  thus  has  a  taste 

much  like  the  native  German.    Yet  a  quality  of  its 

189 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

own  lies  in  the  emotional  vitality,  shown  in  a  school 
of  national  drama  and,  of  late,  in  symphony.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  seek  in  this  modern  culmination  a 
correspondence  with  an  impending  danger  of  political 
suppression.  Art  does  not  follow  history  with  so 
instant  a  reflection. 

The  intensity  of  this  national  feeling  appears 
when  Smetana  himself,  the  minstrel  of  the  people, 
is  charged  at  home  with  yielding  to  the  foreign  in- 
fluence. Here  again  is  the  hardship  of  the  true 
national  poet  who  feels  that  for  the  best  utterance 
of  his  message  he  needs  the  grounding  upon  a  broader 
art ;  here  is  the  narrow  Chauvinism  that  has  confined 
the  music  of  many  lands  within  the  primitive  forms. 

Two  types  we  have  in  Bohemian  music  of  later 
times:  one,  Smetana,  of  pure  national  celebration; 
a  second,  Dvorak,  who  with  a  profound  absorption 
of  the  German  masters,  never  escaped  the  thrall 
of  the  folk-element  and  theme. 

SMETANA.    SYMPHONIC  POEM,  "THE  MOLDAU 
RIVER  "  * 

Simplicity  is  uppermost  in  these  scores;  yet  the 
true  essence  is  almost  hidden  to  the  mere  reader. 
With  all  primitive  quality  they  are  more  difficult 
than  many  a  classic  symphony.  The  latent  charm  of 

*  Friedrich  Smetana,  1824-1884,  foremost  among  Bo- 
hemian dramatic  composers,  wrote  a  cycle  of  symphonic 
poems  under  the  general  title  "  My  Country."  Of  these 
the  present  work  is  the  second. 

190 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

folk  humor  and  sentiment  depends  more  on  tradition 
and  sympathy  than  on  notation. 

The  naively  graphic  impulse  (that  we  find 
throughout  the  choral  works  of  Bach)  that  merely 
starts  a  chance  themal  line,  as  here  of  the  first 
branch  of  the  Moldau,  does  not  disturb  the  emotional 
expression.  And  while  the  feeling  is  sustained,  the 
art  is  there,  not  to  stifle  but  to  utter  and  set  free 
the  native  spring  of  song. 

It  must  be  yielded  that  the  design  is  not  profound ; 
it  smacks  of  the  village  fair  rather  than  of  grand 
tragedy.  Song  is  ever  supreme,  and  with  all  abund- 
ance of  contrapuntal  art  does  not  become  sophisti- 
cated. The  charm  is  not  of  complexity,  but  of  a 
more  child-like,  sensuous  kind. 

It  must  all  be  approached  in  a  different  way  from 
other  symphonic  music.  The  minstrel  is  not  even 
the  peasant  in  court  costume,  as  Dvorak  once  was 
called.  He  is  the  peasant  in  his  own  village  dress, 
resplendent  with  color  and  proud  of  his  rank. 

We  cannot  enjoy  the  music  with  furrowed  brow. 
It  is  a  case  where  music  touches  Mother  Earth  and 
rejuvenates  herself.  Like  fairy  lore  and  proverbs, 
its  virtue  lies  in  some  other  element  than  profound 
design.  For  any  form  of  song  or  verse  that  enshrines 
the  spirit  of  a  people  and  is  tried  in  the  forge  of  ages 
of  tradition,  lives  on  more  surely  than  the  fairest  art 
of  individual  poet. 

The  stream  is  the  great  figure,  rising  from  small 
sources  in  playful  flutes,  with  light  spray  of  harp  and 
191 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Allegro  commodo 
non  agitato 


lu/ringando 

(Flute  with  chord  of  pizz.  strings) 

strings.  The  first  brook  is  joined  by  another  (in 
clarinets)  from  a  new  direction.  Soon  grows  the 
number  and  the  rustle  of  confluent  waters.  The 
motion  of  the  strings  is  wavelike,  of  a  broader  flow, 
though  underneath  we  scan  the  several  lesser  currents. 
Above  floats  .now  the  simple,  happy  song,  that  expands 


K<>):g  —  =  — 

• 

{2     « 

E  

1_- 

1 

""^  (Reeds  and  horns  with  waving            >"-           •" 
strings  and  stroke  of  triangle  ) 

with  the  stream  and  at  last  reaches  a  glad,  sunny 
major. 

Still  to  the  sound  of  flowing  waters  comes  the  forest 
hunt,  with  all  the  sport  of  trumpets  and  other  brass. 

It  is  descriptive  music,  tonal  painting  if  you  will ; 

but  the  color  is  local  or  national.    The  strokes  are  not 

so  much  of  events  or  scenes  as  of  a  popular  humor 

and  character,  which  we  must  feel  with  small  stress 

192 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

of  each  event.  The  blowing  of  trumpets,  the  purling 
of  streams,  the  swaying  of  trees,  in  primal  figures,  all 
breathe  the  spirit  of  Bohemia. 

The  hunt  dies  away ;  emerging  from  the  forest  the 
jolly  sounds  greet  us  of  a  peasant  wedding,     The 


Tempo  moderate 


and  strings) 


parade  reaches  the  church  in  high  festivity  and  slowly 
vanishes  to  tinkling  bells. 

Night  has  fallen;  in  shifted  scene  the  stream  is 
sparkling  in  the  moonlight  still  to  the  quiet  sweet 
harmonies.  But  this  is  all  background  for  a  dance 
of  nymphs,  while  a  dulcet,  sustained  song  sounds 
through  the  night.  At  last,  to  the  golden  horns  a 
faintest  harmony  is  added  of  deeper  brass.  Still 
very  softly,  the  brass  strike  a  quicker  phrase  and  we 
seem  to  hear  the  hushed  chorus  of  hunt  with  the  call 
of  trumpets,  as  the  other  brass  lead  in  a  new  verse 
that  grows  lustier  with  the  livelier  song  and  dance, 
till — with  a  flash  we  are  alone  with  the  running 
stream  with  which  the  dance  of  nymphs  has  some- 
how merged. 

13  193 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

On  it  goes,  in  happy,  ever  more  masterful  course, 
a  symbol  of  the  nation's  career,  surging  in  bright 
major  and  for  a  moment  quieting  before  the  mighty 
Rapids  of  St.  Johann.  Here  the  song  of  the  stream 
is  nearly  lost  in  the  rush  of  eddies  and  the  strife  of 
big  currents,  with  the  high  leaps  of  dashing  spray, — 
ever  recurring  like  unceasing  battle  with  a  towering 
clash  at  the  height  of  the  tempest.  At  last  all  meet 
in  overpowering  united  torrent,  suddenly  to  hush 
before  the  stream,  at  the  broadest,  rushes  majestically 
along  in  hymnal  song  of  exalted  harmonies  and 
triumphant  melody,  with  joyous  after-strains. 

As  the  pilgrim  to  his  Mecca,  so  the  waters  are 
wafted  into  the  climactic  motive  of  the  Hradschin, 
the  chant  of  the  holy  citadel.  The  rest  is  a  long  jubila- 


(Full  orchestra,  with 
rapid  figures  in  the  strings) 

tion  on  quicker  beats  of  the  chant,  amid  the  plash 
of    waters    and    the    shaking    of    martial    brass. 
Strangely,  as  the  other  sounds  die  away,  the  melody 
of  the  stream  emerges  clear  and  strong,  then  vanishes 
in  the  distance  before  the  jubilant  Amen. 
In  the  general  view  we  must  feel  a  wonderful  con- 
194 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

trast  here  with  the  sophomoric  state  of  the  contem- 
porary art  in  other  lands  where  the  folk-song  has 
lost  its  savor, — where  the  natural  soil  is  exhausted 
and  elegant  castles  are  built  in  the  air  of  empty 
fantasy,  or  on  the  sands  of  a  vain  national  pride. 

DVORAK.  SYMPHONY,  "  FROM  THE  NEW  WORLD."  * 

It  is  a  much-discussed  question  how  far  Dvorak's 
American  symphony  is  based  on  characteristic  folk- 
song. Here  are  included  other  questions:  to  what 
extent  the  themes  are  based  on  an  African  type,  and 
whether  negro  music  is  fairly  American  folk-song. 
Many,  perhaps  most  people,  will  answer  with  a  gen- 
eral negative.  But  it  seems  to  be  true  that  many  of 
us  do  not  really  know  the  true  negro  song, — have 
quite  a  wrong  idea  of  it. 

To  be  sure,  all  argument  aside,  it  is  a  mistake  to 
think  that  folk-song  gets  its  virtue  purely  from  a 
distinctive  national  quality, — because  it  is  Hungar- 
ian, Scandinavian,  or  Slavonic.  If  all  the  national 
modes  and  rhythms  of  the  world  were  merged  in  one 
republic,  there  would  still  be  a  folk-song  of  the  true 
type  and  value.  There  is  a  subtle  charm  and  strength 
in  the  spontaneous  simplicity,  all  aside  from  racial 
color.  It  is  here  that,  like  Antaeus,  the  musician 
touches  Mother  Earth  and  renews  his  strength.  So, 
when  Dvorak  suddenly  shifts  in  the  midst  of  his 
New  World  fantasy  into  a  touch  of  Bohemian  song, 
there  is  no  real  loss.  It  is  all  relevant  in  the  broad 

*  Anton   DvOrak,   1841-1904. 
195 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

sense  of  folk  feeling,  that  does  not  look  too  closely  at 
geographical  bounds.  It  is  here  that  music,  of  all 
arts,  leads  to  a  true  state  of  equal  sympathy,  regard- 
less of  national  prejudice.  What,  therefore,  distin- 
guishes Dvorak's  symphony  may  not  be  mere  negro 
melody,  or  even  American  song,  but  a  genuine  folk- 
feeling,  in  the  widest  meaning. 

In  one  way,  Dvorak's  work  reminds  us  of  Mendels- 
sohn's Scotch  Symphony:  both  exploit  foreign 
national  melody  in  great  poetic  forms.  One  could 
write  a  Scotch  symphony  in  two  ways :  one,  in  Men- 
delssohn's, the  other  would  be  to  tell  of  the  outer 
impression  in  the  terms  of  your  own  folk-song.  That 
is  clearly  the  way  Mendelssohn  wrote  most  of  the 
Italian  Symphony, — which  stands  on  a  higher  plane 
than  the  Scotch.  For  folk-song  is  the  natural  lan- 
guage of  its  own  people.  It  is  interesting  to  see  the 
exact  type  that  each  theme  represents ;  but  it  is  not  so 
important  as  to  catch  the  distinction,  the  virtue  of 
folk-song  per  se  and  the  purely  natural  utterance  of 
one's  own.  Of  course,  every  one  writes  always  in  his 
folk-tones.  On  the  other  hand,  one  may  explore  one's 
own  special  treasures  of  native  themes,  as  Dvorak 
himself  did  so  splendidly  in  his  Slavic  Dances  and  in 
his  Legends.  So  one  must,  after  all,  take  this  grate- 
ful, fragrant  work  as  an  idea  of  what  American  com- 
posers might  do  in  full  earnest.  Dvorak  is  of  all 
later  masters  the  most  eminent  folk-musician.  He 
shows  greatest  sympathy,  freedom  and  delight  in 
revelling  among  the  simple  tones  and  rhythms  of 
popular  utterance,  rearing  on  them,  all  in  poetic 
196 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

spontaneity,  a  structure  of  high  art.  Without  strain 
or  show,  Dvorak  stood  perhaps  the  most  genuine  of 
late  composers,  with  a  firm  foot  on  the  soil  of  native 
melody,  yet  with  the  balance  and  restraint  and  the 
clear  vision  of  the  trained  master.* 

In  a  certain  view,  it  would  seem  that  by  the  fate  of 
servitude  the  American  negro  has  become  the  element 
in  our  own  national  life  that  alone  produces  true  folk- 
song,— that  corresponds  to  the  peasant  and  serf  of 
Europe,  the  class  that  must  find  in  song  the  refuge 
and  solace  for  its  loss  of  material  joys.  So  Dvorak 
perhaps  is  right,  with  a  far  seeing  eye,  when  he  singles 
the  song  of  the  despised  race  as  the  national  type. 

Another  consideration  fits  here.  It  has  been  sug- 
gested that  the  imitative  sense  of  the  negro  has  led 
him  to  absorb  elements  of  other  song.  It  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  separate  original  African  elements  of  song 
from  those  that  may  thus  have  been  borrowed.  At 
any  rate,  there  is  no  disparagement  of  the  negro's 
musical  genius  in  this  theory.  On  the  contrary,  it 
would  be  almost  impossible  to  imagine  a  musical 
people  that  would  resist  the  softer  tones  of  surround- 

*  The  whole  subject  of  American  and  negro  folk-song 
is  new  and  unexplored.  There  are  races  of  the  blacks 
living  on  the  outer  reefs  and  islands  of  the  Carolinas, 
with  not  more  than  thirty  whites  in  a  population  of  six 
thousand,  where  "  spirituals  "  and  other  musical  rites  are 
held  which  none  but  negroes  may  attend.  The  truest 
African  mode  and  rhythm  would  seem  to  be  preserved 
here;  to  tell  the  truth,  there  is  great  danger  of  their  loss 
unless  they  are  soon  recorded. 

197 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

ing  and  intermingling  races.  We  know,  to  be  sure, 
that  Stephen  Foster,  the  author  of  "  The  Old  Folks 
at  Home,"  "  Massa's  in  the  Cold,  Cold  Ground,"  and 
other  famous  ballads,  was  a  Northerner,  though  his 
mother  came  from  the  South.  We  hear,  too,  that  he 
studied  negro  music  eagerly.  It  is  not  at  all  incon- 
ceivable, however,  Foster's  song  may  have  been  devoid 
of  negro  elements,  that  the  colored  race  absorbed,  wit- 
tingly or  unwittingly,  something  of  the  vein  into 
their  plaints  or  lullabies, — that,  indeed,  Foster's 
songs  may  have  been  a  true  type  that  stirred  their 
own  imitation.  From  all  points  of  view, — the  con- 
dition of  slavery,  the  trait  of  assimilation  and  the 
strong  gift  of  musical  expression  may  have  con- 
spired to  give  the  negro  a  position  and  equipment 
which  would  entitle  his  tunes  to  stand  as  the  real 
folk-song  of  America. 

The  eccentric  accent  seems  to  have  struck  the  com- 
poser strongly.  And  here  is  a  strange  similarity 
with  Hungarian  song, — though  there  is,  of  course, 
no  kinship  of  race  whatever  between  Bohemians  and 
Magyars.  One  might  be  persuaded  to  find  here 
simply  an  ebullition  of  rhythmic  impulse, — the  de- 
sire for  a  special  fillip  that  starts  and  suggests  a 
stronger  energy  of  motion  than  the  usual  conven- 
tional pace.  At  any  rate,  the  symphony  begins  with 
just  such  strong,  nervous  phrases  that  soon  gather 
big  force.  Hidden  is  the  germ  of  the  first,  un- 
doubtedly the  chief  theme  of  the  whole  work. 

It  is  more  and  more  remarkable  how  a  search  will 
show  the  true  foundation  of  almost  all  of  Dvorak's 
198 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

themes.  Not  that  one  of  them  is  actually  borrowed, 
or  lacks  an  original,  independent  reason  for  being. 

Whether  by  imitation  or  not,  the  pentatonic  scale 
of  the  Scotch  is  an  intimate  part  of  negro  song.  This 
avoidance  of  the  seventh  or  leading  tone  is  seen 
throughout  the  symphony  as  well  as  in  the  traditional 
jubilee  tunes.  It  may  be  that  this  trait  was  merely 
confirmed  in  the  African  by  foreign  musical  influence. 
For  it  seems  that  the  leading-note,  the  urgent  need 
for  the  ascending  half-tone  in  closing,  belongs  orig- 
inally to  the  minstrelsy  of  the  Teuton  and  of  central 
Europe,  that  resisted  and  conquered  the  sterner 
modes  of  the  early  Church.  Euder  nations  here 
agreed  with  Catholic  ritual  in  preferring  the  larger 
interval  of  the  whole  tone.  But  in  the  quaint  jump 
of  the  third  the  Church  had  no  part,  clinging  closely 
to  a  diatonic  process. 

The  five-toned  scale  is  indeed  so  widespread  that  it 
cannot  be  fastened  on  any  one  race  or  even  family  of 
nations.  The  Scotch  have  it;  it  is  characteristic  of 
the  Chinese  and  of  the  American  Indian.  But,  inde- 
pendently of  the  basic  mode  or  scale,  negro  songs 
show  here  and  there  a  strange  feeling  for  a  savage 
kind  of  lowering  of  this  last  note.  The  pentatonic 
scale  simply  omits  it,  as  well  as  the  fourth  step. 
But  the  African  will  now  and  then  rudely  and  forci- 
bly lower  it  by  a  half-tone.  In  the  minor  it  is  more 
natural;  for  it  can  then  be  thought  of  as  the  fifth 
of  the  relative  major.  Moreover,  it  is  familiar  to  us 
in  the  Church  chant.  This  effect  we  have  in  the 
beginning  of  the  Scherzo.  Many  of  us  do  not  know 
199 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


the  true  African  manner,  here.  But  in  the  major  it 
is  much  more  barbarous.  And  it  is  almost  a  pity  that 
Dvorak  did  not  strike  it  beyond  an  occasional  touch 
(as  in  the  second  quoted  melody).  A  fine  example 
is  "Koll,  Jordan  Koll,"  in  E  flat  (that  opens,  by 
the  way,  much  like  Dvorak's  first  theme),  where  the 
beginning  of  the  second  line  rings  out  on  a  savage 
D  flat,  out  of  all  key  to  Caucasian  ears. 

We  soon  see  stealing  out  of  the  beginning  Adagio 
an  eccentric  pace  in  motion  of  the  bass,  that  leads  to 
the  burst  of  main  subject,  Allegro  molto,  with  a  cer- 


^       flf)    "P" 

Fizz.  (Strings) 

(Clarinets  doubled 
below  in  bassoons) 


r 


«f 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 


tain  ragged  rhythm  that  we  Americans  cannot  dis- 
claim as  a  nation.  The  working  up  is  spirited,  and 
presently  out  of  the  answer  grows  a  charming  jingle 
that  somehow  strikes  home. 


f>PP  (Violins,  with  harmony  in  lower  strings) 

It  begins  in  the  minor  and  has  a  strange,  barbaric 
touch  of  cadence.  Many  would  acknowledge  it  at 
most  as  a  touch  of  Indian  mode.  Yet  it  is  another 
phase  of  the  lowered  seventh.  And  if  we  care  to 
search,  we  find  quite  a  prototype  in  a  song  like 
"  Didn't  My  Lord  Deliver  Daniel."  Soon  the  phrase 
has  a  more  familiar  ring  as  it  turns  into  a  friendly 
major.  But  the  real  second  theme  comes  in  a  solo 
tune  on  the  flute,  in  the  major, 


(Strings) 

with  a  gait  something  like  the  first.*    Less  and  less 
we  can  resist  the  genuine  negro  quality  of  these  melo- 

*  Again  it  is  interesting  to  compare  here  the  jubilee  song, 
"  Oh !  Redeemed,"  in  the  collection  of  "  Jubilee  and  Plan- 
tation Songs,"  of  the  Oliver  Ditson  Company. 
201 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

dies,  and,  at  the  same  time,  their  beauty  and  the 
value  of  the  tonal  treasure-house  in  our  midst. 

The  whole  of  the  first  Allegro  is  thus  woven  of 
three  melodious  and  characteristic  themes  in  very 
clear  sonata-form.  The  second,  Largo,  movement  is 
a  lyric  of  moving  pathos,  with  a  central  melody  that 
may  not  have  striking  traits  of  strict  African  song, 
and  yet  belongs  to  the  type  closely  associated  with 
the  negro  vein  of  plaint  or  love-song.  The  rhythmic 

Largo 


(English  horn  solo) 
turns  that  lead  to  periods  of  excitement  and  climaxes 
of  rapid  motion,  are  absent  in  the  main  melody.  But 
( Oboe  and  clarinets ) 


( Basses pizz.  with  tremolo  figures  in  violins) 


Six. 


202 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

they  appear  in  the  episode  that  intervenes.  Even 
here,  in  the  midst,  is  a  new  contrast  of  a  minor 
lament  that  has  a  strong  racial  trait  in  the  sudden 
swing  to  major  and,  as  quickly,  back  to  the  drearier 
mode.  This  is  followed  by  a  rhapsody  or  succession 
of  rapid,  primitive  phrases,  that  leads  to  a  crisis 
where,  of  a  sudden,  three  themes  sing  at  once,  the 
two  of  the  previous  Allegro  and  the  main  melody  of 
the  Largo,  in  distorted  pace  with  full  chorus.  This 
excitement  is  as  suddenly  lulled  and  soothed  by  the 
return  of  the  original  moving  song. 

The  Scherzo  starts  in  a  quick  three-beat  strum  on 
the  chord  we  have  pointed  to  as  a  true  model  trait  of 
negro  music,  with  the  lowered  leading-note.  The 

moUo  vivace  (Fl.  and  oboes)      .   *,      j^  R  | 

fitt.      ",    ",  J  J.    .  j  |  \{         ill 

:#gz*ia-r-|iz*-g[_X4-X  0 — ^.j-^*. 


T+  \  I 


(Strings)        .  (?1>t:) 

J  j.  J. 

*"*"    \^   "**  *~t     


f-r  r 


theme,  discussed  in  close  stress  of  imitation,  seems 
merely  to  mark  the  rapid  swing  in  the  drone  of 
strange  harmony.  But  what  is  really  a  sort  of  Trio 
(poco  sostenuto)  is  another  sudden,  grateful  change 
to  major,  perfectly  true  to  life,  so  to  speak,  in  this 
turn  of  mode  and  in  the  simple  lines  of  the  tune. 
The  lyric  mood  all  but  suppresses  the  dance,  the 
203 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

melody  sounding  like  a  new  verse  of  the  Largo.  The 
trip  has  always  lingered,  but  not  too  much  for  the 
delicious  change  when  it  returns  to  carry  us  off  our 
feet. 

The  Scherzo  now  steals  in  again,  quite  a  piece,  it 
seems,  with  the  Trio.  As  the  rising  volume  nears  a 
crisis,  the  earliest  theme  (from  the  first  Allegro)  is 
heard  in  the  basses.  In  the  hushed  discourse  of 
Scherzo  theme  that  follows,  the  old  melody  still 
intrudes.  In  mockery  of  one  of  its  turns  comes  an 
enchanting  bit  of  tune,  as  nai've  an  utterance  as  any, 
much  like  a  children's  dancing  song.  And  it  re- 
turns later  with  still  new  enchantment  of  rhythm. 
But  the  whole  is  too  full  of  folk-melody  to  trace  out, 
yet  is,  in  its  very  fibre,  true  to  the  idea  of  an  epic 
of  the  people. 

Presently  the  whole  Scherzo  and  Trio  are  re- 
hearsed ;  but  now  instead  of  the  phase  of  latest  melo- 
dies is  a  close  where  the  oldest  theme  (of  Allegro) 
is  sung  in  lusty  blasts  of  the  horns  and  wood,  with 
answers  of  the  Scherzo  motive. 

In  the  last  movement,  Allegro  con  fuoco,  appears 
early  a  new  kind  of  march  tune  that,  without  special 

Allegro  con  fuoco 


f* 


ff  (Horns  and  trumpets 
with  full  orchestra) 

trick  of  rhythm,  has  the  harsh  note  of  lowered  lead- 
ing-note  (in  the  minor,  to  be  sure)   in  very  true 
204 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

keeping  with  negro  song.  The  march  is  carried  on, 
with  flowing  answer,  to  a  high  pitch  of  varied  splen- 
dor and  tonal  power.  The  second  theme  is  utterly 
opposed  in  a  certain  pathetic  rhapsody.  Yet  it  rises, 
at  the  close,  to  a  fervent  burst  in  rapid  motion.  We 


(Solo  clarinets) 
I     / 


may  expect  in  the  Finale  an  orgy  of  folk-tune  and 
dance,  and  we  are  not  disappointed.  There  is,  too, 
a  quick  rise  and  fall  of  mood,  that  is  a  mark  of  the 
negro  as  well  as  of  the  Hungarian.  By  a  sudden 
doubling,  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  true  "  hoe-down/' 
in  jolliest  jingle,  with  that  nai've  iteration,  true  to 
life;  it  comes  out  clearest  when  the  tune  of  the  bass 
(that  sounds  like  a  rapid  "Three  Blind  Mice")  is 
205 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


(Strings,  wood  and  brass) 
^/ 


(See  page  205,  line  9.) 


put  in  the  treble.  A  pure  idealized  negro  dance-frolic 
is  here.  It  is  hard  to  follow  all  the  pranks;  lightly 
as  the  latest  phrase  descends  in  extending  melody, 
a  rude  blast  of  the  march  intrudes  in  discordant 
humor.  A  new  jingle  of  dance  comes  with  a  re- 
doubled pace  of  bits  of  the  march.  As  this  dies  down 
to  dimmest  bass,  the  old  song  from  the  Largo  rings 
high  in  the  wood.  Strangest  of  all,  in  a  fierce  shout 
of  the  whole  chorus  sounds  twice  this  same  pathetic 
strain.  Later  comes  a  redoubled  speed  of  the  march 
in  the  woodwind,  above  a  slower  in  low  strings.  Now 
the  original  theme  of  all  has  a  noisy  say.  Presently 
the  sad  second  melody  has  a  full  verse.  Once  more 
206 


BOHEMIAN  SYMPHONIES 

the  Largo  lullaby  sings  its  strain  in  the  minor.  In 
the  close  the  original  Allegro  theme  has  a  literal, 
vigorous  dispute  with  the  march-phrase  for  the  last 
word  of  all. 

The  work  does  less  to  exploit  American  music  than 
to  show  a  certain  community  in  all  true  folk-song. 
Nor  is  this  to  deny  a  strain  peculiar  to  the  new 
world.  It  seems  a  poet  of  distant  land  at  the  same 
time  and  in  the  same  tones  uttered  his  longing  for 
his  own  country  and  expressed  the  pathos  and  the 
romance  of  the  new.  Dvorak,  like  all  true  workers, 
did  more  than  he  thought :  he  taught  Americans  not 
so  much  the  power  of  a  song  of  their  own,  as  their 
right  of  heritage  in  all  folk-music.  And  this  is  based 
not  merely  on  an  actual  physical  inheritance  from 
the  various  older  races. 

If  the  matter,  in  Dvorak's  symphony,  is  of  Ameri- 
can negro-song,  the  manner  is  Bohemian.  A 
stranger-poet  may  light  more  clearly  upon  the  traits 
of  a  foreign  lore.  But  his  celebration  will  be  more 
conscious  if  he  endeavor  to  cling  throughout  to  the 
special  dialect.  A  true  national  expression  will  come 
from  the  particular  soil  and  will  be  unconscious  of  its 
own  idiom. 

The  permanent  hold  that  Dvorak's  symphony  has 
gained  is  due  to  an  intrinsic  merit  of  art  and  sincere 
sentiment;  it  has  little  to  do  with  the  nominal  title 
or  purpose. 

207 


CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  EARLIER  BRUCKNER  * 

WHATEVER  be  the  final  answer  of  the  mooted 
question  of  the  greatness  of  Bruckner's 
symphonies,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  had  his 
full  share  of  technical  profundity,  and  a  strik- 
ing mastery  of  the  melodious  weaving  of  a  maze 
of  concordant  strains.  The  question  inevitably  arises 
with  Bruckner  as  to  the  value  of  the  world's  judg- 
ments on  its  contemporary  poets.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  furore  of  the  musical  public  tends  to 
settle  on  one  or  two  favorites  with  a  concentration 
of  praise  that  ignores  the  work  of  others,  though 
it  be  of  a  finer  grain.  Thus  Schubert's  greatest — 
his  one  completed — symphony  was  never  acclaimed 
until  ten  years  after  his  death.  Even  his  songs 
somehow  brought  more  glory  to  the  singer  than  to 
the  composer.  Bach's  oratorios  lay  buried  for  a 
full  century.  On  the  other  hand,  names  great 
in  their  day  are  utterly  lost  from  the  horizon.  It  is 
hard  to  conceive  the  eclat  of  a  Buononcini  or  a 
Monteverde, — whose  works  were  once  preeminent. 
There  are  elements  in  art,  of  special,  sensational 
effect,  that  make  a  peculiar  appeal  in  their  time,  and 
are  incompatible  with  true  and  permanent  great- 

*  Anton  Bruckner,   born   at  Annsfelden,   Austria,   1828; 
died  in  Vienna  in  1896. 

208 


THE  EARLIER  BRUCKNER 

ness.  One  is  tempted  to  say,  the  more  sudden  and 
vehement  the  success,  the  less  it  will  endure.  But  it 
would  not  be  true.  Such  an  axiom  would  condemn 
an  opera  like  "Don  Giovanni,"  an  oratorio  like  the 
"  Creation,"  a  symphony  like  Beethoven's  Seventh. 
There  is  a  wonderful  difference,  an  immeasurable 
gulf  between  the  good  and  the  bad  in  art;  yet  the 
apparent  line  is  of  the  subtlest.  Most  street  songs 
may  be  poor;  but  some  are  undoubtedly  beautiful  in 
a  very  high  sense.  It  is  a  problem  of  mystic  fascina- 
tion, this  question  of  the  value  of  contemporary  art. 
It  makes  its  appeal  to  the  subjective  view  of  each 
listener.  No  rule  applies.  Every  one  will  perceive 
in  proportion  to  his  capacity,  no  one  beyond  it.  So, 
a  profound  work  may  easily  fail  of  response,  as  many 
works  in  the  various  arts  have  done  in  the  past, 
because  the  average  calibre  of  the  audience  is  too 
shallow,  while  it  may  deeply  stir  an  intelligent  few. 
Not  the  least  strange  part  of  it  all  is  the  fact  that 
there  can,  of  necessity,  be  no  decision  in  the  lifetime 
of  the  poet.  Whether  it  is  possible  for  obscure  Mil- 
tons  never  to  find  their  meed  of  acclaim,  is  a  question 
that  we  should  all  prefer  to  answer  in  the  negative. 
There  is  a  certain  shudder  in  thinking  of  such  a 
chance ;  it  seems  a  little  akin  to  the  danger  of  being 
buried  alive. 

The  question  of  Bruckner's  place  can  hardly  be 
said  to  be  settled,  although  he  has  left  nine  sympho- 
nies.   He  certainly  shows  a  freedom,  ease  and  mastery 
in  the  symphonic  manner,  a  limpid  flow  of  melody 
14  209 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

and  a  sure  control  in  the  interweaving  of  his  themes, 
so  that,  in  the  final  verdict,  the  stress  may  come 
mainly  on  the  value  of  the  subjects,  in  themselves. 
He  is  fond  of  dual  themes,  where  the  point  lies  in 
neither  of  two  motives,  but  in  the  interplay  of  both ; 
we  see  it  somewhat  extended  in  Richard  Strauss,  who 
uses  it,  however,  in  a  very  different  spirit.  The  one 
evident  and  perhaps  fatal  lack  is  of  intrinsic  beauty 
of  the  melodic  ideas,  and  further,  an  absence  of  the 
strain  of  pathos  that  sings  from  the  heart  of  a  true 
symphony.  While  we  are  mainly  impressed  by  the 
workmanship,  there  is  no  denying  a  special  charm  of 
constant  tuneful  flow.  At  times  this  complexity  is 
almost  marvellous  in  the  clear  simplicity  of  the  con- 
certed whole, — in  one  view,  the  main  trait  or  trick  of 
symphonic  writing.  It  is  easy  to  pick  out  the  lead- 
ing themes  as  they  appear  in  official  order.  But  it  is 
not  so  clear  which  of  them  constitute  the  true  text. 
The  multiplicity  of  tunes  and  motives  is  amazing. 

Of  the  Wagner  influence  with  which  Bruckner  is 
said  to  be  charged,  little  is  perceptible  in  his  second 
symphony.  On  the  contrary,  a  strong  academic  tra- 
dition pervades.  The  themes  are  peculiarly  sym- 
phonic. Moreover  they  show  so  strikingly  the  dual 
quality  that  one  might  say,  as  a  man  may  see  double, 
Bruckner  sang  double.  Processes  of  augmenting  and 
inverting  abound,  together  with  the  themal  song  in 
the  bass.  Yet  there  is  not  the  sense  of  overloaded 
learning.  There  is  everywhere  a  clear  and  melodious 
polyphony. 

210 


THE  EARLIER  BRUCKNER 


But  with  all  masterly  architecture,  even  enchant- 
ing changes  of  harmony  and  a  prodigal  play  of  mel- 
ody, the  vacuity  of  poetic  ideas  must  preclude  a  per- 
manent appeal.  Bruckner  is  here  the  schoolmaster: 
his  symphony  is  a  splendid  skeleton,  an  object  lesson 
for  the  future  poet. 

In  the  FOURTH  (ROMANTIC)  SYMPHONY  the  main 
light  plays  throughout  on  the  wind.  The  text  is  a 
call  of  horns,  that  begins  the  work.  It  is  a  symphony 


In  tranquil  motion 
•S         (Horns,  espressiw)  f) 


-\  -&- 

(Strings) 

of  wood-notes,  where  the  forest-horn  is  sovereign, — 
awakening  a  widening  world  of  echoes,  with  a  mur- 
muring maze  of  lesser  notes.  One  has  again  the 
feeling  that  in  the  quiet  interweaving  of  a  tapestry 
of  strains  lies  the  individual  quality  of  the  composer, 
— that  the  forte  blasts,  the  stride  of  big  unison  figures 
are  but  the  interlude. 

In  the  Andante  the  charm  is  less  of  tune  than  of 
the  delicate  changing  shades  of  the  harmony  and 
of  the  colors  of  tone.  We  are  ever  surprised  in  the 
gentlest  way  -by  a  turn  of  chord  or  by  the  mere  en- 
trance of  a  horn  among  the  whispering  strings.  The 
211 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

shock  of  a  soft  modulation  may  be  as  sudden  as  of 
the  loud,  sudden  blare.  But  we  cannot  somehow  be 
consoled  for  the  want  of  a  heart-felt  melody. 

The  Scherzo  is  a  kind  of  hunting-piece,  full  of  the 
sparkle,  the  color  and  romance  of  bugles  and  horns, 
— a  spirited  fanfare  broken  by  hushed  phrases  of 
strings  or  wood,  or  an  elf-like  mystic  dance  on  the 
softened  call  of  trumpets.  The  Trio  sings  apart,  be- 
tween the  gay  revels,  in  soft  voices  and  slower  pace, 
like  a  simple  ballad. 

The  Finale  is  conceived  in  mystical  retrospect, 
beginning  in  vein  of  prologue :  over  mysterious  mur- 
muring strings,  long  sustained  notes  of  the  reed  and 
horn  in  octave  descent  are  mingled  with  a  soft  caril- 
lon of  horns  and  trumpets  in  the  call  of  the  Scherzo. 
In  broad  swing  a  free  fantasy  rises  to  a  loud  refrain 
(in  the  brass)  of  the  first  motive  of  the  symphony. 

In  slower  pace  and  hush  of  sound  sings  a  madrigal 
of  tender  phrases.  A  pair  of  melodies  recall  like  fig- 
ures of  the  first  Allegro.  Indeed,  a  chain  of  dulcet 
strains  seems  to  rise  from  the  past. 

The  fine  themal  relevance  may  be  pursued  in 
infinite  degree,  to  no  end  but  sheer  bewilderment. 
The  truth  is  that  a  modern  vanity  for  subtle  connec- 
tion, a  purest  pedantry,  is  here  evident,  and  has 
become  a  baneful  tradition  in  the  modern  symphony. 
It  is  an  utter  confusion  of  the  letter  with  the  spirit. 
Once  for  all,  a  themal  coherence  of  symphony  must 
lie  in  the  main  lines,  not  in  a  maze  of  •unsignificant 
figures. 

212 


THE  EARLIER  BRUCKNER 

Marked  is  a  sharp  alternation  of  mood,  tempest- 
uous and  tender,  of  Florestan  and  Eusebius.  The 
lyric  phase  yields  to  the  former  heroic  fantasy  and 
then  returns  in  soothing  solace  into  a  prevailing 
motive  that  harks  back  to  the  second  of  the  beginning 
movement.  The  fantasy,  vague  of  melody,  comes 

(Wood  and  horns) 
ConSve. 


(in  more  than  one  sense)  as  relief  from  the  small 
tracery.  It  is  just  to  remember  a  like  oscillation 
in  the  first  Allegro. 

When  the  prologue  recurs,  the  phrases  are  in 
ascent,  instead  of  descent  of  octaves.  A  climactic 
verse  of  the  main  dulcet  melody  breaks  out  in  reso- 
nant choir  of  brass  and  is  followed  by  a  soft  rhapsody 
on  the  several  strains  that  hark  back  to  the  begin- 
ning. From  the  halting  pace  the  lyric  episode  rises 
in  flight  of  continuous  song  to  enchanting  lilt.  No-w- 
in the  big  heroic  fantasy  sing  the  first  slow  phrases 
as  to  the  manner  born  and  as  naturally  break  into  a 
paean  of  the  full  motive,  mingled  with  strains  of  the 
213 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

original  legend  of  the  symphony,  that  flows  on  to 
broad  hymnal  cadence. 

In  mystic  musing  we  reach  a  solemn  stillness 
where  the  prologue  phrase  is  slowly  drawn  out  into 
a  profoundly  moving  hymn.  Here  we  must  feel  is 
Meister  Bruckner's  true  poetic  abode  rather  than  in 
the  passion  and  ecstasy  of  romance  into  which  he  was 
vainly  lured.* 

*  Bruckner's  Fifth  Symphony  (in  B  flat)  is  a  typical 
example  of  closest  correlation  of  themes  that  are  devoid 
of  intrinsic  melody. 

An  introduction  supplies  in  the  bass  of  a  hymnal  line 
the  main  theme  of  the  Allegro  by  inversion  as  well  as  the 
germ  of  the  first  subject  of  the  Adagio.  Throughout,  as 
in  the  Romantic  Symphony,  the  relation  between  the  first 
and  the  last  movement  is  subtle.  A  closing,  jagged  phrase 
reappears  as  the  first  theme  of  the  Finale. 

The  Adagio  and  Scherzo  are  built  upon  the  same  figure 
of  bass.  The  theme  of  the  Trio  is  acclaimed  by  a  German 
annotator  as  the  reverse  of  the  first  motive  of  the 
symphony. 

In  the  prelude  of  the  Finale,  much  as  in  the  Ninth  of 
Beethoven,  are  passed  in  review  the  main  themes  of  the 
earlier  movements.  Each  one  is  answered  by  an  eccentric 
phrase  that  had  its  origin  in  the  first  movement  and  is 
now  extended  to  a  fugal  theme. 

The  climactic  figure  is  a  new  hymnal  line  that  moves  as 
central  theme  of  an  imposing  double  fugue. 


214 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 

IN"  Bruckner's  later  works  appears  the  unique  in- 
stance of  a  discipline  grounded  in  the  best  tra- 
ditions, united  to  a  deft  use  of  ephemeral  devices. 
The  basic  cause  of  modern  mannerism,  mainly  in 
harmonic  effects,  lies  in  a  want  of  formal  mastery; 
an  impatience  of  thorough  technic;  a  craving  for 
quick  sensation.  With  Bruckner  it  was  the  opposite 
weakness  of  original  ideas,  an  organic  lack  of  poetic 
individuality.  It  is  this  the  one  charge  that  cannot 
be  brought  home  to  the  earlier  German  group  of 
reaction  against  the  classic  idea. 

There  is  melody,  almost  abundant,  in  Wagner  and 
Liszt  and  their  German  contemporaries.  Indeed  it 
was  an  age  of  lyricists.  The  fault  was  that  they 
failed  to  recognize  their  lyric  limitation,  lengthening 
and  padding  their  motives  abnormally  to  fit  a  form 
that  was  too  large.  Hence  the  symphony  of  Liszt, 
with  barren  stretches,  and  the  impossible  plan  of  the 
later  music-drama.  The  truest  form  of  such  a  period 
was  the  song,  as  it  blossomed  in  the  works  of  a 
Franz. 

Nor  has  this  grandiose  tendency  even  yet  spent 
its  course.  A  saving  element  was  the  fashioning  of 
a  new  form,  by  Liszt  himself, — the  Symphonic  Poem, 
215 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

— far  inferior  to  the  symphony,  but  more  adequate  to 
the  special  poetic  intent. 

Whatever  be  the  truth  of  personal  gossip,  there  is 
no  doubt  that  Bruckner  lent  himself  and  his  art  to 
a  championing  of  the  reactionary  cause  in  the  form 
that  was  intrinsically  at  odds  with  its  spirit.  Hence 
in  later  works  of  Bruckner  these  strange  episodes  of 
borrowed  romance,  abruptly  stopped  by  a  firm  coun- 
terpoint of  excellent  quality, — indeed  far  the  best  of 
his  writing.  For,  if  a  man  have  little  ideas,  at  least 
his  good  workmanship  will  count  for  something. 

In  truth,  one  of  the  strangest  types  is  presented  in 
Bruckner, — a  pedant  who  by  persistent  ingenuity 
simulates  a  master-work  almost  to  perfection.  By 
so  much  as  genius  is  not  an  infinite  capacity  for 
pains,  by  so  much  is  Bruckner's  Ninth  not  a  true 
symphony.  Sometimes,  under  the  glamor  of  his 
art,  we  are  half  persuaded  that  mere  persistence 
may  transmute  pedantry  into  poetry. 

It  seems  almost  as  if  the  Wagnerians  chose  their 
champion  in  the  symphony  with  a  kind  of  suppressed 
contempt  for  learning,  associating  mere  intellectual- 
ity with  true  mastery,  pointing  to  an  example  of 
greatest  skill  and  least  inspiration  as  if  to  say :  "  Here 
is  your  symphonist  if  you  must  have  one."  And  it 
is  difficult  to  avoid  a  suspicion  that  his  very  partisans 
were  laughing  up  their  sleeve  at  their  adopted 
champion. 

We  might  say  all  these  things,  and  perhaps  we  have 
gone  too  far  in  suggesting  them.  After  all  we  have 
216 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 

no  business  with  aught  but  the  music  of  Bruckner, 
whatever  may  have  been  his  musical  politics,  his 
vanity,  his  ill  judgment,  or  even  his  deliberate  par- 
tisanship against  his  betters.  But  the  ideas  them- 
selves are  unsubstantial ;  on  shadowy  foundation  they 
give  an  illusion  by  modern  touches  of  harmony  and 
rhythm  that  are  not  novel  in  themselves.  The  melo- 
dic idea  is  usually  divided  in  two,  as  by  a  clever 
juggler.  There  is  really  no  one  thought,  but  a  plenty 
of  small  ones  to  hide  the  greater  absence. 

We  have  merely  to  compare  this  artificial  manner 
with  the  poetic  reaches  of  Brahms  to  understand  the 
insolence  of  extreme  Wagnerians  and  the  indigna- 
tion of  a  Hanslick.  As  against  the  pedantry  of  Bruck- 
ner the  style  of  Strauss  is  almost  welcome  in  its 
frank  pursuit  of  effects  which  are  at  least  grateful 
in  themselves.  Strauss  makes  hardly  a  pretence  at 
having  melodic  ideas.  They  serve  but  as  pawns  or 
puppets  for  his  harmonic  and  orchestral  mise-en- 
scene.  He  is  like  a  play-wright  constructing  his  plot 
around  a  scenic  design. 

Just  a  little  common  sense  is  needed, — an  unpre- 
meditated attitude.  Thus  the  familiar  grouping, 
"  Bach,  Beethoven  and  Brahms,"  is  at  least  not  un- 
natural. Think  of  the  absurdity  of  "Bach,  Bee- 
thoven and  Bruckner"!* 

The  truth  is,  the  Bruckner  cult  is  a  striking  symp- 
tom of  a  certain  decadence  in  German  music;  an 

*A  festival  was  held  in  Munich  in  the  summer  of  1911, 
in  celebration  of  "  Bach,  Beethoven  and  Bruckner." 
217 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

incapacity  to  tell  the  sincere  quality  of  feeling  in  the 
dense,  brilliant  growth  of  technical  virtuosity.  In 
the  worship  at  the  Bayreuth  shrine,  somehow  rein- 
forced by  a  modern  national  self-importance,  has 
been  lost  a  heed  for  all  but  a  certain  vein  of  exotic 
romanticism,  long  ago  run  to  riotous  seed,  a  blending 
of  hedonism  and  fatalism.  No  other  poetic  message 
gets  a  hearing  and  the  former  may  be  rung  in  end- 
less repetition  and  reminiscence,  provided,  to  be 
sure,  it  be  framed  with  brilliant  cunning  of  work- 
manship. 

Here  we  feel  driven  defiantly  to  enounce  the  truth : 
that  the  highest  art,  even  in  a  narrow  sense,  comes 
only  with  a  true  poetic  message.  Of  this  Bruckner 
is  a  proof;  for,  if  any  man  by  pure  knowledge  could 
make  a  symphony,  it  was  he.  But,  with  almost 
superhuman  skill,  there  is  something  wanting  in  the 
inner  connection,  where  the  main  ideas  are  weak, 
forced  or  borrowed.  It  is  only  the  true  poetic  rapture 
that  ensures  the  continuous  absorption  that  drives 
in  perfect  sequence  to  irresistible  conclusion. 

SYMPHONY  NO.  9 

I. — Solenne.     Solemn  mystery  is  the  mood,  amid 
trembling  strings  on  hollow  unison,  before  the  eight 
Misterioao 


(Eight  horns  with  tremolo 
strings  on  D  in  three  octaves) 

218 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 


horns  strike  a  phrase  in  the  minor  chord  that  in 
higher  echoes  breaks  into  a  strange  harmony  and 
descends  into  a  turn  of  melodic  cadence.  In  answer 
is  another  chain  of  brief  phrases,  each  beginning 

(1st  violins) 


-&&- 


, 


J 


&     'F- 


V&4 


•#— 


npp 

con  8ra. 

(Lower  reeds  with  strings 
tremolo  in  all  but  basses) 


with  a  note  above  the  chord  (the  common  mark  and 
manner  of  the  later  school  of  harmonists*)  and  a 
new  ascent  on  a  literal  ladder  of  subtlest  progress, 
while  hollow  intervals  are  intermingled  in  the  pinch 
of  close  harmonies.  The  bewildering  maze  here  be- 
gins of  multitudinous  design,  enriched  with  modern 
devices. 

A  clash  of  all  the  instruments  acclaims  the  climax 
before  the  unison  stroke  of  fullest  chorus  on  the 
solemn  note  of  the  beginning.  A  favorite  device  of 
Bruckner,  a  measured  tread  of  pizzicato  strings  with 
interspersed  themal  motives,  precedes  the  romantic 
episode.  Throughout  the  movement  is  this  alter- 
nation of  liturgic  chorale  with  tender  melody. 

•  See  Vol.  II,  note,  page  104. 
219 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Motto  tranquillo 
j  (Strings)  espressivo 


Con  £w. 


i »    *  E  -1  '  g 


(Oboes  and  horns) 


Bruckner's  pristine  polyphonic  manner  ever 
appears  in  the  double  strain  of  melodies,  where  each 
complements,  though  not  completes  the  other. 
However  multiple  the  plan,  we  cannot  feel  more  than 
the  quality  of  unusual  in  the  motives  themselves,  of 
some  interval  of  ascent  or  descent.  Yet  as  the  melody 
grows  to  larger  utterance,  the  fulness  of  polyphonic 
art  brings  a  beauty  of  tender  sentiment,  rising  to  a 
moving  climax,  where  the  horns  lead  the  song  in  the 
heart  of  the  madrigal  chorus,  and  the  strings  alone 
sing  the  expressive  answer. 
220 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 
(Violins  doubled  in  8ve.) 


J! 


BtK 


Ltt 


3=^=£: 


EE 


(Strings,  wood  and  horns) 

A  third  phrase  now  appears,  where  lies  the  main 
poetry  of  the  movement.     Gentle  swaying  calls  of 

Tranquitto  (Wood  and  violins) 


mf> 

Con  8va. 


221 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

soft  horns  and  wood,  echoed  and  answered  in  close 
pursuit,  lead  to  a  mood  of  placid,  elemental  rhythm, 
with  something  of  "  Eheingold,"  of  "  Ossian  "  ballad, 
of  the  lapping  waves  of  Cherubim's  "  Anacreon."  In 
the  midst  the  horns  blow  a  line  of  sonorous  melody, 
where  the  cadence  has  a  breath  of  primal  legend. 
On  the  song  runs,  ever  mid  the  elemental  motion, 
to  a  resonant  height  and  dies  away  as  before.  The 
intimate,  romantic  melody  now  returns,  but  it  is 
rocked  on  the  continuing  pelagic  pulse;  indeed,  we 
hear  anon  a  faint  phrase  of  the  legend,  in  distant 
trumpet,  till  we  reach  a  joint  rhapsody  of  both 
moods ;  and  in  the  never  resting  motion,  mid  vanish- 
ing echoes,  we  dream  of  some  romance  of  the  sea. 

Against  descending  harmonies  return  the  hollow, 
sombre  phrases  of  the  beginning,  with  the  full 
cadence  of  chorale  in  the  brass ;  and  beyond,  the  whole 
prelude  has  a  full,  extended  verse.  In  the  alterna- 
tion of  solemn  and  sweet  episode  returns  the  tender 
melody,  with  pretty  inversions,  rising  again  to  an 
ardent  height.  The  renewed  clash  of  acclaiming 
chorus  ushers  again  the  awful  phrase  of  unison  (now 
in  octave  descent),  in  towering  majesty.  But  now 
it  rises  in  the  ever  increasing  vehemence  where  the 
final  blast  is  lit  up  with  a  flash  of  serene  sonority. 

This  motive,  of  simple  octave  call,  indeed  pervades 
the  earlier  symphony  in  big  and  little.  And  now, 
above  a  steady,  sombre  melodic  tread  of  strings  it 
rises  in  a  fray  of  eager  retorts,  transfigured  in  won- 
derful harmony  again  and  again  to  a  brilliant  height, 
222 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 

pausing  on  a  ringing  refrain,  in  sombre  hue  of  over- 
powering blast. 

A  soft  interlude  of  halting  and  diminishing 
strings  leads  to  the  romantic  melody  as  it  first  ap- 
peared, where  the  multiple  song  again  deepens  and 
ennobles  the  theme.  It  passes  straight  into  the 
waving,  elemental  motion,  where  again  the  hallowed 
horn  utters  its  sibyl  phrase,  again  rising  to  resonant 
height.  And  again  merges  the  intimate  song  with 
the  continuing  pulse  of  the  sea,  while  the  trumpet 
softly  sounds  the  legend  and  a  still  greater  height 
of  rhapsody. 

Dull  brooding  chords  bring  a  sombre  play  of  the 
awing  phrase,  over  a  faint  rocking  motion,  clashing 
in  bold  harmony,  while  the  horns  surge  in  broader 
melody.  The  climactic  clash  ends  in  a  last  verse 
of  the  opening  phrase,  as  of  primal,  religious  chant. 

//. — Scherzo.  In  the  dazzling  pace  of  bright  clash- 
ing harmonies,  the  perfect  answers  of  falling  and 
rising  phrases,  we  are  again  before  the  semblance,  at 
(Flute  with  pizz.  violins) 


(Pizz,  strings) 

least,  of  a  great  poetic  idea.  To  be  sure  there  is  a 
touch  of  stereotype  in  the  chords  and  even  in  the 
pinch  and  clash  of  hostile  motives.  And  there  is  not 
the  distinctive  melody, — final  stamp  and  test  of  the 
223 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


shaft  of  inspiration.  Yet  in  the  enchantment  of 
motion,  sound  and  form,  it  seems  mean-spirited  to 
cavil  at  a  want  of  something  greater.  One  stands 
bewildered  before  such  art  and  stunned  of  all  judg- 
ment. 

A  delight  of  delicate  gambols  follows  the  first 
brilliant  dance  of  main  motive.  Amid  a  rougher 
trip  of  unison  sounds  the  sonorous  brass,  and  to  soft- 
est jarring  murmur  of  strings  a  pretty  jingle  of  reed, 


TTr 

(Pizz.  strings  with  soft  chor 
of  wind  and  rhythmic  bassoon) 


rr 


with  later  a  slower  counter-song,  almost  a  madrigal 
of  pastoral  answers,  till  we  are  back  in  the  ruder 
original  dance.  The  gay  cycle  leads  to  a  height  of 
rough  volume  (where  the  mystic  brass  sound  in  the 
midst)  and  a  revel  of  echoing  chase. 

In  sudden  hush  of  changed  tone  on  fastest  fairy 
trip,  strings  and  wood  play  to  magic  harmonies.  In 
calming  motion  the  violins  sing  a  quieter  song,  ever 

Dolce  (Violins)  (Oboe) (Violins) 


(Oboes  with 
sustained  strings) 


224 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 


echoed  by  the  reed.  Though  there  is  no  gripping 
force  of  themal  idea,  the  melodies  are  all  of  grateful 
charm,  and  in  the  perfect  round  of  rhythmic  design 
we  may  well  be  content.  The  original  dance  recurs 
with  a  full  fine  orgy  of  hostile  euphony. 

///. — Adagio.     Feierlich, — awesome    indeed     are 
these  first  sounds,  and  we  are  struck  by  the  original- 

Molto  lento  (Solenne) 


(Strings  with  choir  of      mf  con  8ve. 
tubas,  later  of  trombones 
and  contrabass-tuba) 


f 


ity  of  Bruckner's  technic.  After  all  we  must  give 
the  benefit  at  least  of  the  doubt.  And  there  is  after 
this  deeply  impressive  introit  a  gorgeous  Promethean 

(Woodwind  and  low  brass 
with  tremolo 
strings) 


ConSve. 


15 


225 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

spring  of  up-leaping  harmonies.  The  whole  has  cer- 
tainly more  of  concrete  beauty  than  many  of  the 
labored  attempts  of  the  present  day. 

The  prelude  dies  down  with  an  exquisite  touch  of 
precious  dissonance, — whether  it  came  from  the  heart 
or  from  the  workshop.  The  strange  and  tragic  part 
is  that  with  so  much  art  and  talent  there  should  not 
be  the  strong  individual  idea, — the  flash  of  new 
tonal  figure  that  stands  fearless  upon  its  own  feet. 
All  this  pretty  machinery  seems  wasted  upon  the 
framing  and  presenting,  at  the  moment  of  expecta- 
tion, of  the  shadows  of  another  poet's  ideas  or  of 
mere  platitudes. 

In  the  midst  of  the  broad  sweeping  theme  with  a 

(Strings,  with  cl't  and  oboe) 
Very  broadly 
(G  string) 


•S 


promise  of  deep  utterance  is  a  phrase  of  horns  with 
the  precise  accent  and  agony  of  a  Tristan.  The  very 
semblance  of  whole  motives  seems  to  be  taken  from 
the  warp  and  woof  of  Wagnerian  drama.  And  thus 
the  whole  symphony  is  degraded,  in  its  gorgeous 
capacity,  to  the  reechoed  rhapsody  of  exotic  roman- 
226 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 

ticism.    It  is  all  little  touches,  no  big  thoughts, — a 
mosaic  of  a  symphony, 


express. 


And  so  the  second  theme  *  is  almost  too  heavily 
laden  with  fine  detail  for  its  own  strength,  though 


(Violins,  reeds  and  horns) 
j     Poco  piu  lento 


(Pizz.oi 

lower 

strings) 

it  ends  with  a  gracefully  delicate  answer.  The  main 
melody  soon  recurs  and  sings  with  a  stress  of  warm 
feeling  in  the  cellos,  echoed  by  glowing  strains  of 

*  We  have  spoken  of  a  prelude,  first  and  second  theme ; 
they  might  have  been  more  strictly  numbered  first,  second 
and  third  theme. 

227 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

the  horns.  Komantic  harmonies  bring  back  the 
solemn  air  of  the  prelude  with  a  new  counter  melody, 
in  precise  opposite  figure,  as  though  inverted  in  a 
mirror,  and  again  the  dim  moving  chords  that  seem 
less  of  Bruckner  than  of  legendary  drama.  In  big 
accoutrement  the  double  theme  moves  with  double 
answers,  ever  with  the  sharp  pinch  of  harmonies  and 
heroic  mien.  Gentlest  retorts  of  the  motives  sing 
with  fairy  clearness  (in  horns  and  reeds),  rising  to 
tender,  expressive  dialogue.  With  growing  spirit  they 
ascend  once  more  to  the  triumphant  clash  of 
empyraean  chords,  that  may  suffice  for  justifying 
beauty. 

Instead  of  the  first,  the  second  melody  follows  with 
its  delicate  grace.  After  a  pause  recurs  the  phrase 
that  harks  from  mediaeval  romance,  now  in  a  stirring 
ascent  of  close  chasing  voices.  The  answer,  perfect 
in  its  timid  halting  descent,  exquisite  in  accent  and 
in  the  changing  hues  of  its  periods,  is  robbed  of  true 
effect  by  its  direct  reflection  of  Wagnerian  ecstasies. 

As  if  in  recoil,  a  firm  hymnal  phrase  sounds 
in  the  strings,  ending  in  a  more  intimate  cadence. 
Another  chain  of  rarest  fairy  clashes,  on  the  motive 
of  the  prelude,  leads  to  the  central  verse,  the  song  of 
the  first  main  melody  in  the  midst  of  soft  treading 
strings,  and  again  descends  the  fitting  answer  of 
poignant  accent. 

And  now,  for  once  forgetting  all  origin  and  cling- 
ing sense  of  reminiscence,  we  may  revel  in  the  rich 
romance,  the  fathoms  of  mystic  harmony,  as  the  main 
228 


THE  LATER  BRUCKNER 

song  sings  and  rings  from  the  depths  of  dim  legend 
in  lowest  brass,  amidst  a  soft  humming  chorus,  in 
constant  shift  of  fairy  tone. 

A  flight  of  ascending  chords  brings  the  big  exalta- 
tion of  the  first  prophetic  phrase,  ever  answered  by 
exultant  ring  of  trumpet,  ending  in  sudden  awing 
pause.  An  eerie  train  of  echoes  from  the  verse  of 
prelude  leads  to  a  loveliest  last  song  of  the  poignant 
answer  of  main  song,  over  murmuring  strings.  It 

(Tremolo  violins  with  lower  8ve.) 
(Reeds)  ^ . 


is  carried  on  by  the  mystic  choir  of  sombre  brass  in 
shifting  steps  of  enchanting  harmony  and  dies  away 
in  tenderest  lingering  accents.* 

*  In  place  of  the  uncompleted  Finale,  Bruckner  is  said 
to  have  directed  that  his  "  Te  Deum "  be  added  to  the 
other  movements. 


229 


CHAPTER  XVI 
HUGO  WOLFF  * 

"  PENTHE8ILEA."     SYMPHONIC  POEM  f 

AST  entirely  opposite  type  of  composer,  Hugo 
Wolff,  shows  the  real  strength  of  modern  Ger- 
man music  in  a  lyric  vein,  sincere,  direct  and  fervent. 
His  longest  work  for  instruments  has  throughout  the 
charm  of  natural  rhythm  and  melody,  with  subtle 
shading  of  the  harmony.  Though  there  is  no  want 
of  contrapuntal  design,  the  workmanship  never 
obtrudes.  It  is  a  model  of  the  right  use  of  symbolic 
motives  in  frequent  recurrence  and  subtle  variation. 
In  another  instrumental  piece,  the  "  Italian  Sere- 
nade," all  kinds  of  daring  suspenses  and  gentle 
clashes  and  surprises  of  harmonic  scene  give  a  frag- 
rance of  dissonant  euphony,  where  a  clear  melody 
ever  rules.  "  Penthesilea,"  with  a  climactic  passion 
and  a  sheer  contrast  of  tempest  and  tenderness, 
uttered  with  all  the  mastery  of  modern  devices,  has 
a  pervading  thrall  of  pure  musical  beauty.  We  are 
tempted  to  hail  in  Wolff  a  true  poet  in  an  age  of 
pedants  and  false  prophets. 

*  Hugo  Wolff,  born  in  1860,  died  in  1903. 
f  After  the  like-named  tragedy  of  Heinrich  von  Kleist. 
230 


HUGO  WOLFF 

PENTHESILEA — A  TBAGEDY  BY  HKINBICH  VON  KLEIST.* 

As  Wolff's  work  is  admittedly  modelled  on  Kleist's  trag- 
edy, little  known  to  the  English  world,  it  is  important  to 
view  the  main  lines  of  this  poem,  which  has  provoked  so 
divergent  a  criticism  in  Germany. 

On  the  whole,  the  tragedy  seems  to  be  one  of  those 
daring,  even  profane  assaults  on  elemental  questions  by 
ways  that  are  untrodden  if  not  forbidden.  It  is  a  won- 
derful type  of  Romanticist  poetry  in  the  bold  choice  of 
subject  and  in  the  intense  vigor  and  beauty  of  the  verse. 
Coming  with  a  shock  upon  the  classic  days  of  German 
poetry,  it  met  with  a  stern  rebuke  from  the  great  Goethe. 
But  a  century  later  we  must  surely  halt  in  following  the 
lead  of  so  severe  a  censor.  The  beauty  of  diction  alone 
seems  a  surety  of  a  sound  content, — as  when  Penthesilea 
exclaims : 

"  A  hero  man  can  be — a  Titan — in  distress, 
But  like  a  god  is  he  when  rapt  in  blessedness." 

An  almost  convincing  symbolism  has  been  suggested  of 
the  latent  meaning  of  the  poem  by  a  modern  critic,f — a 
symbolism  that  seems  wonderfully  reflected  in  Wolff's 
music.  The  charge  of  perverted  passion  can  be  based  only 
on  certain  lines,  and  these  are  spoken  within  the  period  of 
madness  that  has  overcome  the  heroine.  This  brings  us 
to  the  final  point  which  may  suggest  the  main  basic  fault 
in  the  poem,  considered  as  art.  At  least  it  is  certainly 
a  question  whether  pure  madness  can  ever  be  a  fitting 
subject  in  the  hero  of  a  tragedy.  Ophelia  is  an  episode; 
Hamlet's  madness  has  never  been  finally  determined. 
Though  the  Erinnys  hunted  Orestes  in  more  than  one  play, 

•German,  1776-1811. 

fKuno  Francke.  See  the  notes  of  Philip  Hale  in  the 
programme  book  of  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra  of 
April  3-4,  1908. 

231 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

yet  no  single  Fury  could,  after  all,  be  the  heroine  of  trag- 
edy. Penthesilea  became  in  the  crisis  a  pure  Fury,  and 
though  she  may  find  here  her  own  defense,  the  play  may 
not  benefit  by  the  same  plea.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mad- 
ness is  less  a  reality  than  an  impression  of  the  Amazons 
who  cannot  understand  the  heroine's  conflicting  feelings. 
There  is  no  one  moment  in  the  play  when  the  hearer's  sym- 
pathy for  the  heroine  is  destroyed  by  a  clear  sense  of  her 
insanity. 

For  another  word  on  the  point  of  symbolism,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  whole  plot  is  one  of  supernatural 
legend  where  somehow  human  acts  and  motives  need  not 
conform  to  conventional  rule,  and  where  symbolic  meaning, 
as  common  reality  disappears,  is  mainly  eminent.  It  is  in 
this  same  spirit  that  the  leading  virtues  of  the  race,  of 
war  or  of  peace,  are  typified  by  feminine  figures. 

The  Tragedy  is  not  divided  into  acts;  it  has  merely  four 
and  twenty  scenes — upon  the  battlefield  of  Troy.  The 
characters  are  Penthesilea,  Queen  of  the  Amazons;  her 
chief  leaders,  Prothoe,  Meroe  and  Asteria,  and  the  high 
priestess  of  Diana.  Of  the  Greeks  there  are  Achilles, 
Odysseus,  Diomede  and  Antilochus.  Much  of  the  fighting 
and  other  action  is  not  seen,  but  is  reported  either  by 
messengers  or  by  present  witnesses  of  a  distant  scene. 

The  play  begins  with  the  battle  raging  between  Greeks 
and  Amazons.  Penthesilea  with  her  hosts  amazes  the 
Greeks  by  attacking  equally  the  Trojans,  her  reputed  allies. 
She  mows  down  the  ranks  of  the  Trojans,  and  yet  refuses 
all  proffers  of  the  Greeks. 

Thus  early  we  have  the  direct,  uncompromising  spirit, — 
a  kind  of  feminine  Prometheus.  The  first  picture  of  the 
heroine  is  of  a  Minerva  in  full  array,  stony  of  gaze  and 
of  expression  until — she  sees  Achilles.  Here  early  comes 
the  conflict  of  two  elemental  passions.  Penthesilea  recoils 
from  the  spell  and  dashes  again  into  her  ambiguous  war- 
fare. For  once  Greeks  and  Trojans  are  forced  to  fight  in 
common  defence. 


HUGO  WOLFF 

"  The  raging  Queen  with  blows  of  thunder  struck 
As  she  would  cleave  the  whole  race  of  the  Greeks 
Down  to  its  roots.     .    .    . 

More  of  the  captives  did  she  take 

Than  she  did  leave  us  eyes  to  count  the  list, 

Or  arms  to  set  them  free  again. 

Often  it  seemed  as  if  a  special  hate 
Against  Achilles  did  possess  her  breast. 

Yet  in  a  later  moment,  when 
His  life  was  given  straight  into  her  hands, 
Smiling  she  gave  it  back,  as  though  a  present; 
His  headlong  course  to  Hades  she  did  stay." 

In  midst  of  the  dual  battle  between  Achilles  and  the 
Queen,  a  Trojan  prince  comes  storming  and  strikes  a  treach- 
erous blow  against  the  armor  of  the  Greek. 

"  The  Queen  is  stricken  pale ;  for  a  brief  moment 
Her  arms  hang  helpless  by  her  sides;  and  then, 
Shaking  her  locks  about  her  naming  cheeks, 
Dashes  her  sword  like  lightning  in  his  throat, 
And  sends  him  rolling  to  Achilles'  feet." 

The  Greek  leaders  resolve  to  retreat  from  the  futile  fight 
and  to  call  Achilles  from  the  mingled  chase  of  love  and 
war. 

Achilles  is  now  reported  taken  by  the  Amazons.  The 
battle  is  vividly  depicted:  Achilles  caught  on  a  high  ledge 
with  his  war-chariot;  the  Amazon  Queen  storming  the 
height  from  below.  The  full  scene  is  witnessed  from  the 
stage, — Penthesilea  pursuing  almost  alone;  Achilles  sud- 
denly dodges;  the  Queen  as  quickly  halts  and  rears  her 
horse;  the  Amazons  fall  in  a  mingled  heap;  Achilles 
escapes,  though  wounded.  But  he  refuses  to  follow  his 
233 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

companions  to  the  camp;  he  swears  to  bring  home  the 
Queen  wooed  in  the  bloody  strife  of  her  own  seeking. 

Penthesilea  recoils  with  like  vehemence  from  the  en- 
treaties of  her  maids,  intent  upon  the  further  battle, 
resolved  to  overcome  the  hero  or  to  die.  She  forbids  the 
Festival  of  Roses  until  she  has  vanquished  Achilles.  In 
her  rage  she  banishes  her  favorite  Prothoe  from  her  pres- 
ence, but  in  a  quick  revulsion  takes  her  back. 

In  the  next  scene  the  high  priestess  and  the  little 
Amazon  maids  prepare  the  Feast,  which  Penthesilea  had 
ordered  in  her  confident  attack  upon  the  fleeing  Greeks. 
One  of  the  Rose-maidens  recounts  the  passing  scene  of  the 
Queen's  amazing  action.  The  indignant  priestess  sends  her 
command  to  the  Queen  to  return  to  the  celebration.  Though 
all  the  royal  suite  fling  themselves  in  her  path,  Penthesilea 
advances  to  the  dual  battle.* 

In  a  renewal  of  her  personal  contest,  regardless  of  the 
common  cause,  and  in  her  special  quest  of  a  chosen  husband, 
Penthesilea  has  broken  the  sacred  law. 

The  flight  now  follows  of  the  Amazon  hosts.  When  the 
two  combatants  meet  in  the  shock  of  lances,  the  Queen 
falls  in  the  dust;  her  pallor  is  reflected  in  Achilles'  face. 
Leaping  from  his  horse,  he  bends  o'er  her,  calls  her  by 
names,  and  woos  life  back  into  her  frame.  Her  faithful 
maids,  whom  she  has  forbidden  to  harm  Achilles,  lead  her 
away.  And  here  begins  the  seeming  madness  of  the  Queen 
when  she  confesses  her  love.  For  a  moment  she  yields  to 
her  people's  demands,  but  the  sight  of  the  rose-wreaths 
kindles  her  rage  anew.  Prothoe  defends  her  in  these  lines: 

*  The  law  of  the  Amazons  commanded  them  to  wage  war 
as  told  them  by  the  oracle  of  Mars.  The  prisoners  were 
brought  to  the  Feast  of  Roses  and  wedded  by  their  captors. 
After  a  certain  time  they  were  sent  back  to  their  homes. 
All  male  children  of  the  tribe  were  put  to  death. 
234 


HUGO  WOLFF 

"  Of  life  the  highest  blessing  she  attempted. 
Grazing  she  almost  grasped.     Her  hands  now  fail  her 
For  any  other  lesser  goal  to  reach." 

In  the  last  part  of  the  scene  the  Queen  falls  more  and 
deeper  into  madness.  It  is  only  in  a  too  literal  spirit  that 
one  will  find  an  oblique  meaning, — by  too  great  readiness 
to  discover  it.  In  reality  there  seems  to  be  an  intense 
conflict  of  opposite  emotions  in  the  heroine:  the  pure 
woman's  love,  without  sense  of  self;  and  the  wild  over- 
powering greed  of  achievement.  Between  these  grinding 
stones  she  wears  her  heart  away.  A  false  interpretation  of 
decadent  theme  comes  from  regarding  the  two  emotions  as 
mingled,  instead  of  alternating  in  a  struggle. 

Achilles  advances,  having  flung  away  his  armor.  Prothoe 
persuades  him  to  leave  the  Queen,  when  she  awakes,  in  the 
delusion  that  she  has  conquered  and  that  he  is  the  captive. 
Thus  when  she  beholds  the  hero,  she  breaks  forth  into  the 
supreme  moment  of  exaltation  and  of  frenzied  triumph. 
The  main  love  scene  follows: 

Penthesilea  tells  Achilles  the  whole  story  of  the  Amazons, 
the  conquest  of  the  original  tribe,  the  rising  of  the  wives 
of  the  murdered  warriors  against  the  conquerors;  the 
destruction  of  the  right  breast  (A-mazon)  ;  the  dedication 
of  the  "  brides  of  Mars  "  to  war  and  love  in  one.  In  seek- 
ing out  Achilles  the  Queen  has  broken  the  law.  But  here 
again  appears  the  double  symbolic  idea:  Achilles  meant  to 
the  heroine  not  love  alone,  but  the  overwhelming  conquest, 
the  great  achievement  of  her  life. 

The  first  feeling  of  Penthesilea,  when  disillusioned,  is  of 
revulsive  anger  at  a  kind  of  betrayal.  The  Amazons  re- 
cover ground  in  a  wild  desire  to  save  their  Queen,  and  they 
do  rescue  her,  after  a  parting  scene  of  the  lovers.  But 
Penthesilea  curses  the  triumph  that  snatches  her  away ;  the 
high  priestess  rebukes  her,  sets  her  free  of  her  royal 
duties,  to  follow  her  love  if  she  will.  The  Queen  is  driven 

235 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

from  one  mood  to  another,  of  devoted  love,  burning  am- 
bition and  mortal  despair. 

Achilles  now  sends  a  challenge  to  Penthesilea,  knowing 
the  Amazon  conditions.  Against  all  entreaty  the  Queen 
accepts,  not  in  her  former  spirit,  but  in  the  frenzy  of 
desperate  endeavor,  in  the  reawakened  rage  of  her  ambition, 
spurred  and  pricked  by  the  words  of  the  priestess. 

The  full  scene  of  madness  follows.  She  calls  for  her  dogs 
and  elephants,'  and  the  full  accoutrement  of  battle.  Amidst 
the  terror  of  her  own  warriors,  the  rolling  of  thunder,  she 
implores  the  gods'  help  to  crush  the  Greek.  In  a  final 
touch  of  frenzy  she  aims  a  dart  at  her  faithful  Prothoe. 

The  battle  begins,  Achilles  in  fullest  confidence  in  Pen- 
thesilea's  love,  unfrightened  by  the  wild  army  of  dogs  and 
elephants.  The  scene,  told  by  the  present  on-lookers,  is 
heightened  by  the  cries  of  horror  and  dismay  of  the 
Amazons  themselves. 

Achilles  falls;  Penthesilea,  a  living  Fury,  dashes  upon 
him  with  her  dogs  in  an  insane  orgy  of  blood.  The  Queen 
in  the  culminating  scene  is  greeted  by  the  curses  of  the 
high  priestess.  Prothoe  masters  her  horror  and  turns 
back  to  soothe  the  Queen.  Penthesilea,  unmindful  of  what 
has  passed,  moves  once  more  through  the  whole  gamut  of 
her  torturing  emotions,  and  is  almost  calmed  when  she  spies 
the  bier  with  the  hero's  body.  The  last  blow  falls  when 
upon  her  questions  she  learns  the  full  truth  of  her  deed. 
The  words  she  utters  (that  have  been  cited  by  the  hostile 
critics)  may  well  be  taken  as  the  ravings  of  hopeless 
remorse,  with  a  symbolic  play  of  words.  She  dies,  as  she 
proclaims,  by  the  knife  of  her  own  anguish. 

The  last  lines  of  Prothoe  are  a  kind  of  epilogue: 

"  She  sank  because  too  proud  and  strong  she  flourished. 
The  half -decayed  oak  withstands  the  tempest; 
The  vigorous  tree  is  headlong  dashed  to  earth 
Because  the  storm  has  struck  into  its  crown."  * 

*  Translations,  when  not  otherwise  credited,  are  by  the 
author.  236 


HUGO  WOLFF 


The  opening  scene — "  Lively,  vehement :  Depart- 
ure of  the  Amazons  for  Troy" — begins  impetuous 
and  hefty  with  big  strokes  of  the  throbbing  motive, 

(Tutti  with      (Piccolojn  8ve.) 
higher  8ves.) 
X 


(Bass  in  8ve.) 


the  majestic  rhythm  coursing  below,  lashed  by  a 
quicker  phrase  above.  Suddenly  trumpets  sound, 
somewhat  more  slowly,  a  clarion  call  answered  by  a 
choir  of  other  trumpets  and  horns  in  enchanting  re- 
tort of  changing  harmonies.  Ever  a  fresh  color  of 


(Flutes  and  oboes) 


(Answering  groups 
of  brass) 


^\ 


(Lower  strings  pizz.) 
237 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


tone  sounds  in  the  call  of  the  brass,  as  if  here  or 
yonder  on  the  battle-field.  Sometimes  it  is  almost 
too  sweetly  chanting  for  fierce  war.  But  presently  it 
turns  to  a  wilder  mood  and  breaks  in  galloping  pace 
into  a  true  chorus  of  song  with  clear  cadence. 

(Flutes  with  reeds  in  lower  8ve.) 


(Lower  strings  and 
brass  with  lower  8ve.) 

The  joyful  tinge  is  quickly  lost  in  the  sombre  hue 
of  another  phase  of  war-song  that  has  a  touch  of 
funeral  trip  (though  it  is  all  in  %  time) : 
(Muted  strings) 


ConSvc. 


£ 


238 


HUGO  WOLFF 

A  melody  in  the  minor  plays  first  in  a  choir  of 
horns  and  bassoons,  later  in  united  strings,  accom- 
panied by  soft  rolls  of  drums  and  a  touch  of  the 
lowest  brass.  Harp  and  higher  woodwind  are  added, 
but  the  volume  is  never  transcendent  save  in  a  single 
burst  when  it  is  quickly  hushed  to  the  first  ominous 
whisper.  Out  of  this  sombre  song  flows  a  romance 
of  tender  sentiment,  tranquitto  in  strings,  followed  by 
the  wood.  The  crossing  threads  of  expressive  melody 

Tranquitto 


(In  the 
midst  enters  a  strain  of  solo  horn) 

rise  in  instant  renewal  of  stress  and  agitation.  The 
joy  of  battle  has  returned,  but  it  seems  that  the 
passion  of  love  burns  in  midst  of  the  glow  of  battle, 
each  in  its  separate  struggle,  and  both  together  in 
one  fatal  strife.  The  sombre  melody  returns  in  full 
career,  dying  down  to  a  pause.* 

*  In  a  somewhat  literal  commentary  attributed  to  Dr. 
Richard  Batka,  the  Amazons  here,  "  having  reached  their 
destination,  go  into  night-encampment — as  represented  by 
the  subdued  roll  of  the  kettle-drums,  with  which  the  move- 
ment concludes." 

239 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Molto  sostenuto,  in  changed  Rhythm  of  three 
slow  beats,  comes  "  Penthesilea's  Dream  of  the  Feast 
of  Koses."  Over  a  thick  cluster  of  harmonies  in  harp 
and  strings  the  higher  wood  sing  a  new  song  in  long 
drawn  lyric  notes  with  ravishing  turns  of  tonal  color. 


Molto  sostenuto 


(Rapid  arpeggio  figures  of  harps  an 


IP    rp 

d  muted  stri 


strings) 


dual  song  and  in  many  groups  of  two.  The 
tranquil  current  of  the  dream  is  gradually  disturbed ; 
the  main  burden  is  dimmed  in  hue  and  in  mood. 
Faster,  more  fitful  is  the  flow  of  melody,  with  hostile 
intruding  motive  below;  it  dashes  at  last  into  the 
tragic  phase — Combats ;  Passions ;  Madness ;  Destruc- 
tion— in  very  rapid  tempo  of  2/2  rhythm : 

In  broad,  masterful  pace,  big  contrary  figures 
sweep  up  and  down,  cadencing  in  almost  joyous 
chant,  gliding,  indeed,  into  a  pure  hymn,  as  of 
triumph  (that  harks  back  to  the  chorussing  song  in 
the  beginning). 

Throughout  the  poem  the  musical  symbols  as  well 
as  the  motives  of  passion  are  closely  intertwined. 
Thus  the  identity  of  the  impetuous  phrase  of  the 
240 


HUGO  WOLFF 


very  beginning  is  clear  with  the  blissful  theme  of  the 
Dream  of  the  Feast  of  Roses.  Here,  at  the  end  of  the 
chorussing  verse  is  a  play  or  a  strife  of  phrases  where 
we  cannot  escape  a  symbolic  intent.  To  tremolo  of 
violas  the  cellos  hold  a  tenor  of  descending  melody 
over  a  rude  rumbling  phrase  of  the  basses  of  wood 
and  strings,  while  the  oboe  sings  in  the  treble  an  ex- 
pressive answer  of  ascending  notes.  A  conflict  is 


(Molto  vivace)  (cello 
molto  espreasivo) 


dim. 


and  bassoons  with  upper  Sve.) 
(Oboe)  espressivo 
f> 


evident,  of  love  and  ambition,  of  savage  and  of  gentle 
passion,  of  chaos  and  of  beauty.    At  the  height,  the 
16  241 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

lowest  brass  intrude  a  brutal  note  of  triumph  of  the 
descending  theme.  To  the  victory  of  Pride  succeeds 
a  crisis  of  passionate  yearning.  But  at  the  very 
height  is  a  plunge  into  the  fit  of  madness,  the  fatal 
descending  phrase  (in  trombones)  is  ever  followed 
by  furious  pelting  spurts  in  the  distorted  main  theme. 

At  last  the  paroxysm  abates,  throbbing  ever  slower, 
merging  into  the  tender  song  of  the  Dream  that  now 
rises  to  the  one  great  burst  of  love-passion.  But  it 
ends  in  a  wild  rage  that  turns  right  into  the  war-song 
of  the  beginning.  And  this  is  much  fuller  of  inci- 
dent than  before.  Violins  now  ring  an  hostile  motive 
(the  former  rumbling  phrase  of  basses)  from  the 
midst  of  the  plot  against  the  main  theme  in  trumpets. 
Instead  of  the  former  pageantry,  here  is  the  pure 
frenzy  of  actual  war.  The  trumpet  melodies  resound 
amidst  the  din  of  present  battle.  Instead  of  the  other 
gentler  episodes,  here  is  a  more  furious  raving  of 
the  mad  Queen  (in  the  hurried  main  motive),  where 
we  seem  to  see  the  literal  dogs  of  war  let  loose  and 
spurred  on, — each  paroxysm  rising  to  a  higher  shock. 

Great  is  the  vehemence  of  speed  and  sound  as  the 
dull  doom  of  destruction  drones  in  the  basses  against 
a  grim  perversion  of  the  yearning  theme  above,  that 
overwhelms  the  scene  with  a  final  shriek. 

Slowly  the  dream  of  love  breathes  again,  rises  to  a 
fervent  burst,  then  yields  to  the  fateful  chant  and 
ends  in  a  whisper  of  farewell. 


242 


CHAPTER  XVII 
MAHLER* 

IN"  Mahler  the  most  significant  sign  is  a  return  to 
a  true  counterpoint,  as  against  a  mere  overlading 
of  themes,  that  began  in  Wagner  and  still  persists  in 
Strauss, — an  artificial  kind  of  structure  that  is  never 
conceived  as  a  whole. 

While  we  see  in  Mahler  much  of  the  duophonic 
manner  of  his  teacher,  Bruckner,  in  the  work  of  the 
younger  man  the  barren  art  is  crowned  with  the 
true  fire  of  a  sentient  poet.  So,  if  Bruckner  had  little 
to  say,  he  showed  the  way  to  others.  And  Mahler, 
if  he  did  not  quite  emerge  from  the  mantle  of 
Beethoven,  is  a  link  towards  a  still  greater  future. 
The  form  and  the  technic  still  seem,  as  with  most 
modern  symphonies,  too  great  for  the  message.  It  is 
another  phase  of  orchestral  virtuosity,  of  intellectual 
strain,  but  with  more  of  poetic  energy  than  in  the 
symphonies  of  the  French  or  other  Germans. 

In  other  forms  we  see  this  happy  reaction  towards 
ancient  art,  as  in  the  organ  music  of  a  Eeger.  But 
in  the  Finale  of  Mahler's  Fifth  Symphony  there  is  a 
true  serenity,  a  new  phase  of  symphony,  without  the 
climactic  stress  of  traditional  triumph,  yet  none  the 
less  joyous  in  essence. 

We  cannot  help  rejoicing  that  in  a  sincere  and 

*Gustav  Mahler,    1860-1911. 
243 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

poetic  design  of  symphony  is  blended  a  splendid 
renaissance  of  pure  counterpoint,  that  shines  clear 
above  the  modern  spurious  pretence.  The  Finale 
of  Mahler's  Fifth  Symphony  is  one  of  the  most  in- 
spired conceptions  of  counterpoint  in  all  music.  In 
it  is  realized  the  full  dream  of  a  revival  of  the  art 
in  all  its  glorious  estate. 

SYMPHONY  HO.  5 

I. — 1.  Funeral  March. 

2.  In  stormy  motion  (with  greatest  vehemence). 
II. — 3.  Scherzo  (with  vigor, — not  too  fast). 
III. — 4.  Adagietto   (very  slowly). 
5.  Rondo-Finale  (allegro). 

Mahler's  Fifth  Symphony,  whatever  be  its  intrinsic 
merit,  that  can  be  decided  only  by  time  and  wear, 
undoubtedly  marks  a  high  point  of  orchestral  splen- 
dor, in  the  regard  of  length  and  of  the  complexity 
of  resources.  By  the  latter  is  meant  not  so  much 
the  actual  list  of  instruments  as  the  pervading  and 
accumulating  use  of  thematic  machinery.* 

The  plan  of  movements  is  very  original  and  in  a 
way,  two-fold.  There  are  three  great  divisions,  of 

*  The  symphony  is  probably  the  longest  instrumental 
work  that  had  appeared  at  the  time  of  its  production  in 
1904.  The  list  of  instruments  comprises  4  flutes,  3  oboes, 
3  clarinets,  2  bassoons,  contra-bassoon,  6  horns,  4  trumpets, 
3  trombones,  tuba,  kettle-drums,  cymbals,  bass-drum, 
snare-drum,  triangle,  glockenspiel,  gong,  harp  and  strings. 

Compared  with  Dandy's  Second  Symphony,  the  Fifth 
of  Mahler  has  a  larger  body  of  brass  as  well  as  of  wood- 
wind. 

244 


MAHLER 

which  the  first  comprises  a  Funeral  March,  and  an 
untitled  Allegro  in  vehement  motion.  The  second 
division  has  merely  the  single  movement,  Scherzo. 
In  the  third  are  an  Adagietto  and  a  Rondo  Finale. 

7. — 1.  Funeral  March. — A  call  of  trumpet,  of 
heroic  air  and  tread,  is  answered  by  strident  chords 
ending  in  a  sonorous  motive  of  horns  that  leads  to 
the  funeral  trip,  of  low  brass.  The  mournful  song 
of  the  principal  melody  appears  presently  in  the 
strings,  then  returns  to  the  funeral  trip  and  to  the 
strident  chords.  The  first  trumpet  motive  now 
sounds  with  this  clanging  phrase  and  soon  the  orig- 
inal call  abounds  in  other  brass.  The  deep  descend- 
ing notes  of  the  horns  recur  and  the  full  song  of  the 
funeral  melody  much  extended,  growing  into  a  duet 
of  cellos  and  high  wood-wind, 

-^  ..  u      (Strings,  bassoons  and  clarinets) 


and  further  into  hymnal  song  on  a  new  motive. 
245 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 
(Wood,  horngand  strings) 


^— 


Jass  notes  in  lowest  wood  and  strings) 


nrrre 


So  the  various  melodies  recur  with  new  mood  and 
manner.  Suddenly,  in  fierce  abandon,  a  martial 
tramp  of  the  full  band  resounds,  in  gloomy  minor, 

Suddenly  faster.  Impassioned 

(Rapid  descending  figure  in  violins) 
j  (Trumpet)  


3i&>- 


i 


E- 


ffi 


(Trombones) 


i 


fcfrzzjpzig 


P= 

¥ 


s 


(Tuba  and  strings) 


fcRP*3 


i 


tat: 


i^JjL:S 4?^"  ~4 

<i      I    i—  fi>        4    \    0      a) 


*Jb     *^*> 
-s\*  \y.     ^ 


«  ^ '  "] 


^*=? 


^ 


246 


MAHLER 

the  violins  in  rapid  rage  of  wailing  figure :  the  trum- 
pet strikes  the  firm  note  of  heroic  plaint. 

Wild  grief  breaks  out  on  all  sides,  the  strings  sing- 
ing in  passionate  answer  to  the  trumpet,  the  high 
wood  carrying  on  the  rapid  motion.  At  the  height  of 
the  storm  the  woodwind  gain  control  with  measured 
rhythm  of  choral  melody.  Or  perhaps  the  real 
height  is  the  expressive  double  strain,  in  gentle  pace, 
of  the  strings,  and  the  wood  descending  from  on  high. 

(Woodwind  doubled  below)  ^ 


TY — rr 

(Brass  and  strings) 

The  duet  is  carried  on  in  wilder  mood  by  most  of 
the  voices. 

A  return  to  the  solenm  pace  comes  by  impercep- 
tible change,  the  softer  hues  of  grief  merging  with 
the  fiercer  cries.  Now  various  strains  sound  together, 
— the  main  funeral  melody  in  the  woodwind. 

In  the  close  recurs  the  full  flow  of  funeral  song, 
with  the  hymnal  harmonies.  In  the  refrain  of  the 
stormy  duet  the  sting  of  passion  is  gone;  the  whole 
plaint  dies  away  amid  the  fading  echoes  of  the 
trumpet  call. 

247 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

7. — 2.  The  second  movement,  the  real  first  Allegro, 
is  again  clearly  in  two  parts.  Only,  the  relative  paces 
are  exactly  reversed  from  the  first  movement.  In 
tempestuous  motion,  with  greatest  vehemence,  a  rush- 
ing motive  of  the  basses  is  stopped  by  a  chord  of 
brass  and  strings, — the  chord  itself  reverberating  to 
the  lower  rhythm. 

In  stirring  motion.   With  greatest  vehemence 
(Brass  and  strings) 


(Bass  of  wood  and  string) 
(Trumpets) 


Throughout  the  whole  symphony  is  the  dual 
theme,  each  part  spurring  the  other.  Here  presently 
are  phrases  in  conflicting  motion,  countermarching 
in  a  stormy  maze.  It  is  all,  too,  like  noisy  prepara- 
tion,— a  manoeuvring  of  forces  before  the  battle. 
Three  distinct  figures  there  are  before  a  blast  of  horn 
in  slower  notes,  answered  by  shrill  call  in  highest 
248 


MAHLER 

wood.     There  enters  a  regular,  rhythmic  gait  and 
a  clearer  tune,  suggested  by  the  call. 

(Horns,  oboes  and 
1st  violins,  G  string) 


In  the  brilliant  medley  there  is  ever  a  new  figure 
we  had  not  perceived.  So  when  the  tune  has  been 
told,  trumpets  and  horns  begin  with  what  seems 
almost  the  main  air,  and  the  former  voices  sound  like 
mere  heralds.  Finally  the  deep  trombones  and  tuba 
249 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


enter  with  a  sonorous  call.    Yet  the  first  rapid  trip  of 
all  has  the  main  legend. 

As  the  quicker  figures  gradually  retire,  a  change 
of  pace  appears,  to  the  tramp  of  funeral.  Yet  the 
initial  and  incident  strains  are  of  the  former  text. 
Out  of  it  weaves  the  new,  slower  melody : 

Much  glower  (in  the  tempo  of  the  former  funeral  march) 
(Oboes) (Flutes  and  clarinets) 

^ 


&= 


*  —  — 


(Cellos) 
motto  cantando 

.  — T    „- 

>u      \     4—\*F- 


r 


±=± 


V* 

=ti 

J  j  j  i 

-bnr^ 

J 

* 

3B 

^ 

:  f—  Ji 

IP 

f 

i—  JN 

-^j_ 

f«V    K  1 

^•^ 

.     2 

* 

\         J   J 

PA  D  U 

t. 

f 

J  •     * 

Throughout,  the  old  shrill  call  sounds  in  soft 
lament.  Hardly  like  a  tune,  a  discourse  rather,  it 
winds  along,  growing  and  changing  naively  ever  to 
a  new  phrase.  And  the  soft  calls  about  seem  part 
of  the  melody.  An  expressive  line  rising  in  the 
clarinet  harks  back  to  one  of  the  later  strains  of  the 
funeral  march. 

The  second  melody  or  answer  (in  low  octaves  of 
250 


MAHLER 

strings)  is  a  scant  disguise  of  the  lower  tune  in  the 
stormy  duet  of  the  first  movement.  Yet  all  the 
strains  move  in  the  gentle,  soothing  pace  and  mood 
until  suddenly  awakened  to  the  first  vehement 
rhythm. 

Before  the  slower  verse  returns  is  a  long  plaint 
of  cellos  to  softest  roll  of  drums.  The  gentle  calls 
that  usher  in  the  melody  have  a  significant  turn,  up- 
wards instead  of  down.  All  the  figures  of  the  solemn 
episode  appear  more  clearly. 

On  the  spur  of  the  hurrying  main  motive  of  trum- 
pets the  first  pace  is  once  more  regained. 

A  surprise  of  plot  is  before  us.  In  sudden  recur- 
rence of  funeral  march  the  hymnal  song  of  the  first 
movement  is  heard.  As  suddenly,  we  are  plunged 
into  the  first  joyful  scene  of  the  symphony.  Here  it 
is  most  striking  how  the  call  of  lament  has  become 
triumphant,  as  it  seems  without  a  change  of  note. 
And  still  more  wonderful, — the  same  melody  that 
first  uttered  a  storm  of  grief,  then  a  gentle  sadness, 
now  has  a  firm  exultant  ring.  To  be  sure,  it  is  all 
done  with  the  magic  trip  of  bass, — as  a  hymn  may  be 
a  perfect  dance. 

Before  the  close  we  hear  the  first  fanfare  of  trum- 
pet from  the  opening  symphony,  that  has  the  ring 
of  a  motto  of  the  whole.  At  the  very  end  is  a  trans- 
figured entrance, — very  slowly  and  softly,  to  a  celes- 
tial touch  of  harp,  of  the  first  descending  figure  of 
the  movement. 

251 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

//. — 3.  Scherzo.  Jovial  in  high  degree,  the 
Scherzo  begins  with  the  thematic  complexity  of  mod- 
ern fashion.  In  dance  tune  of  three  beats  horns 
lead  off  with  a  jolly  call;  strings  strike  dancing 
chords ;  the  lower  wind  play  a  rollicking  answer,  but 
together  with  the  horns,  both  strains  continuing  in 
dancing  duet.  Still  the  saucy  call  of  horns  seems  the 
main  text,  though  no  single  tune  reigns  alone. 

(Horns) 
Scherzo,    With  vigor,  not  too  fast 


ipizz.  (Strings) 


(Clarinets  and  basses) 


The  violins  now  play  above  the  horns;  then  the 
cellos  join  and  there  is  a  three-part  song  of  inde- 
pendent tunes,  all  in  the  dance.    So  far  in  separate 
252 


MAHLER 

voices  it  is  now  taken  up  by  full  chorus,  though  still 
the  basses  sing  one  way,,  trebles  another,  and  the 
middle  horns  a  third.  And  now  the  high  trumpet 
strikes  a  phrase  of  its  own.  But  they  are  all  in 
dancing  swing,  of  the  fibre  of  the  first  jolly  motive. 
A  new  episode  is  started  by  a  quicker  obligato  of 
violins,  in  neighboring  minor,  that  plays  about  a 
fugue  of  the  woodwind  on  an  incisive  theme  where 
the  cadence  has  a  strange  taste  of  bitter  sweet  har- 
mony in  the  modern  Gallic  manner. 

(Clarinets)  .     .    ~^~ 

ff-    -  T 


(Bass  of  brass  and  wood) 


Horns  and  violins  now  pursue  their  former  duet, 
but  in  the  changed  hue  of  minor  where  the  old  con- 
cords are  quaintly  perverted.    But  this  is  only  to  give 
253 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


a  merrier  ring  to  the  bright  madrigal  that  follows  in 
sweetly  clashing  higher  wood,  with  the  trip  still  in 
the  violins.  Thence  the  horns  and  violins  break  again 
into  the  duet  in  the  original  key.  Here  the  theme  is 
wittily  inverted  in  the  bass,  while  other  strings  sing 
another  version  above. 

So  the  jolly  dance  and  the  quaint  fugue  alternate; 
a  recurring  phrase  is  carried  to  a  kind  of  dispute, 
with  opposite  directions  above  and  below  and  much 
augmented  motion  in  the  strings. 

In  the  dance  so  far,  in  "three  time,"  is  ever  the 
vigorous  stamp  on  the  third  beat,  typical  of  the 
German  peasant  "  Landler"'  Here  of  a  sudden  is  a 
change  as  great  as  possible  within  the  continuing 
dance  of  three  steps.  "More  tranquil''  in  pace,  in 
soft  strings,  without  a  trace  of  the  Landler  stamp,  is 
a  pure  waltz  in  pretty  imitation  of  tuneful  theme. 


^     Moregentty    (G string)     (Dstring) 

b    \      -    ill    .  — rrr—f  • 


ftjJJLi-fj4j_^  I  IjgTJ 
>'  =*?/""  T~T^~\^ 


f)  (Strings) 


acc't  pizzicato 

And  so  the  return  to  the  vigorous  rough  dance  is 
the  more  refreshing.  The  merry  mood  yields  to  a 
darker  temper.  "  Wild  "  the  strings  rush  in  angry 
fugue  on  their  rapid  phrase ;  the  quaint  theme  is  torn 
254 


MAHLER 

to  shreds,  recalling  the  fierce  tempest  of  earlier 
symphony. 

But  the  first  sad  note  of  the  Scherzo  is  in  the  recita- 
tive of  horn,  after  the  lull.  A  phrase  of  quiet  reflec- 
tion, with  which  the  horn  concludes  the  episode  as 
with  an  "envoi,"  is  now  constantly  rung;  it  is 
wrought  from  the  eerie  tempest;  like  refined  metal 
the  melody  is  finally  poured;  out  of  its  guise  is  the 
theme  now  of  mournful  dance. 

"  Shyly  "  the  tune  of  the  waltz  answers  in  softest 
oboe.  In  all  kinds  of  verses  it  is  sung,  in  expressive 
duet  of  lower  wood,  of  the  brass,  then  of  high 
reeds;  in  solo  trumpet  with  countertune  of  oboe, 
finally  in  high  flutes.  Here  we  see  curiously,  as  the 
first  themes  reappear,  a  likeness  with  the  original 
trumpet-call  of  the  symphony.  In  this  guise  of  the 
first  dance-theme  the  movements  are  bound  together. 
The  envoi  phrase  is  here  evident  throughout. 

At  this  mystic  stage,  to  pure  dance  trip  of  low 
strings  the  waltz  reenters  very  softly  in  constant 
growing  motion,  soon  attaining  the  old  pace  and  a 
new  fulness  of  sound.  A  fresh  spur  is  given  by  a 
wild  motion  of  strings,  as  in  the  f  ugal  episode ;  a  new 
height  of  tempest  is  reached  where  again  the  distorted 
shreds  of  first  dance  appear,  with  phrases  of  the  sec- 
ond. From  it  like  sunshine  from  the  clouds  breaks 
quickly  the  original  merry  trip  of  dance. 

The  full  cycle  of  main  Scherzo  returns  with  all 
stress  of  storm  and  tragedy.  But  so  fierce  is  the 
tempest  that  we  wonder  how  the  glad  mood  can  pre- 
255 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

vail.  And  the  sad  envoi  returns  and  will  not  be 
shaken  off.  The  sharp  clash  of  fugue  is  rung  again 
and  again,  as  if  the  cup  must  be  drained  to  the  drop. 
Indeed,  the  serious  later  strain  does  prevail,  all  but 
the  final  blare  of  the  saucy  call  of  brass.* 

III. — 4-  Adagietto.\  "Very  slowly"  first  violins 
carry  the  expressive  song  that  is  repeated  by  the 
violas. 

Adagietio 
(Strings  and  harp) 


*  In  the  Scherzo  are  chimes,  accenting  the  tune  of  the 
dance,  and  even  castanets,  besides  triangle  and  other  per- 
cussion. The  second  movement  employs  the  harp  and 
triangle. 

fThe  Adagietto  is  scored  simply  for  harp  and  strings; 
nor  are  the  latter  unusually  divided. 
256 


MAHLER 

A  climax  is  reached  by  all  the  violins  in  unison.  A 
new  glow,  with  quicker  motion,  is  in  the  episode, 
where  the  violins  are  sharply  answered  by  the  violas, 
rising  to  a  dramatic  height  and  dying  away  in  a 
vein  of  rare  lyric  utterance. 

It  is  all  indeed  a  pure  lyric  in  tones. 

777. — 5.  Rondo-Finale.  The  whole  has  the  dainty, 
light-treading  humor  that  does  not  die  of  its  own 
vehemence.  Somewhat  as  in  the  Ninth  Symphony  of 
Beethoven, — tyrant  of  classical  traditions,  the  themes 
appear  right  in  the  beginning  as  if  on  muster-roll, 
each  in  separate,  unattended  song.  A  last  chance 
cadence  passes  down  the  line  of  voices  and  settles 
into  a  comfortable  rhythm  as  prevailing  theme,  run- 
ning in  melodious  extension,  and  merging  after  a 

( Clarinets,  horns  and  bassoons )   (Flutes  and  oboes ) 
,  AUcgro  commodo  "^~^ 


hearty  conclusion  in  the  jovially  garrulous  fugue. 

Here  the  counter-theme  proves  to  be  one  of  the  ini- 
tial tunes  and  takes  a  leading  role  until  another 
charming  strain  appears  on  high, — a  pure  nursery 
17  257 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

rhyme  crowning  the  learned  fugue.  Even  this  is  a 
guise  of  one  of  the  original  motives  in  the  mazing 
medley,  where  it  seems  we  could  trace  the  ancestry  of 
each  if  we  could  linger  and  if  it  really  mattered.  And 
yet  there  is  a  rare  charm  in  these  subtle  turns;  it  is 
the  secret  relevance  that  counts  the  most 

The  fugue  reaches  a  sturdy  height  with  one  of  the 
first  themes  in  lusty  horns,  and  suddenly  falls  into 
a  pleasant  jingle,  prattling  away  in  the  train  of  im- 
portant figures,  the  kind  that  is  pertinent  with  no 
outer  likeness. 


Orazioso 


(Strings,  bassoons  and  horns) 


Everywhere,  to  be  sure,  the  little  rhythmic  cadence 
appears;  the  whole  sounds  almost  like  the  old  chil- 
dren's canon  on  "Three  Blind  Mice";  indeed  the 
themal  inversion  is  here  the  main  tune.  Then  in  the 
bass  the  phrase  sounds  twice  as  slow  as  in  the  horns. 
There  are  capers  and  horseplay;  a  sudden  shift  of 
tone;  a  false  alarm  of  fugue;  suddenly  we  are  back 
in  the  first  placid  verse  of  the  rhythmic  motive. 

Here  is  a  new  augmentation  in  resonant  horns  and 
middle  strings,  and  the  melodious  extension.  A 
258 


MAHLER 

former  motive  that  rings  out  in  high  reed,  seems  to 
have  the  function  of  concluding  each  episode. 

A  new  stretch  of  fugue  appears  with  new  counter- 
theme,  that  begins  in  long-blown  notes  of  horns.  It 
really  is  no  longer  a  fugue;  it  has  lapsed  into  mere 
smooth-rolling  motion  underneath  a  verse  of  primal 
tune.  And  presently  another  variant  of  graceful  epi- 
sode brings  a  delicious  lilt, — tender,  but  expressive. 


Grazioso 


espressivo 


With  all  the  subtle  design  there  is  no  sense  of  the 
lamp,  in  the  gentle  murmur  of  quicker  figure  or  melo- 
dious flow  of  upper  theme.  Moving  is  the  lyric  power 
and  sweetness  of  this  multiple  song.  As  to  themal 
relation, — one  feels  like  regarding  it  all  as  inspired 
madrigal,  where  the  maze  and  medley  is  the  thing, 
where  the  tunes  are  not  meant  to  be  distinguished. 
It  becomes  an  abandoned  orgy  of  clearest  counter- 
point. Throughout  is  a  blending  of  fugue  and  of 
children's  romp,  anon  with  the  tenderness  of  lullaby 
and  even  the  glow  of  love-song.  A  brief  mystic  verse, 
with  slow  descending  strain  in  the  high  wood,  pre- 
ludes the  returning  gambol  of  running  strings,  where 
259 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

the  maze  of  fugue  or  canon  is  in  the  higher  flowing 
song,  with  opposite  course  of  answering  tune,  and  a 
height  of  jolly  revel,  where  the  bright  trumpet  pours 
out  the  usual  concluding  phrase.  The  rhythmic  epi- 
sode, in  whimsical  change,  here  sings  with  surprise 
of  lusty  volume.  So  the  merry  round  goes  on  to  a 
big  resonant  Amen  of  final  acclaim,  where  the  little 
phrase  steals  out  as  naturally  as  in  the  beginning. 

Then  in  quicker  pace  it  sounds  again  all  about, 
big  and  little,  and  ends,  after  a  touch  of  modern 
Gallic  scale,  in  opposing  runs,  with  a  last  light,  saucy 
fling. 

Mahler,  we  feel  again,  realizes  all  the  craving  that 
Bruckner  breeds  for  a  kernel  of  feeling  in  the  shell 
of  counterpoint.  Though  we  cannot  deny  a  rude 
breach  of  ancient  rule  and  mode,  there  is  in  Mahler 
a  genuine,  original,  individual  quality  of  polyphonic 
art  that  marks  a  new  stage  since  the  first  in  Bach 
and  a  second  in  Beethoven.  It  is  this  bold  revel  in 
the  neglected  sanctuary  of  the  art  that  is  most  in- 
spiriting for  the  future.  And  as  in  all  true  poetry, 
this  overleaping  audacity  of  design  is  a  mere  expres- 
sion of  simplest  gaiety. 


260 


MUCH  may  be  wisely  written  on  the  right  limits 
of  music  as  a  depicting  art.  The  distinction  is 
well  drawn  between  actual  delineation,  of  figure  or 
event,  and  the  mere  suggestion  of  a  mood.  It  is  no 
doubt  a  fine  line,  and  fortunately ;  for  the  critic  must 
beware  of  mere  negative  philosophy,  lest  what  he 
says  cannot  be  done,  be  refuted  in  the  very  doing. 
If  Lessing  had  lived  a  little  later,  he  might  have 
extended  the  principles  of  his  "Laocoon"  beyond 
poetry  and  sculpture  into  the  field  of  music.  Difficult 
and  ungrateful  as  is  the  task  of  the  critical  philoso- 
pher, it  must  be  performed.  There  is  every  reason 
here  as  elsewhere  why  men  should  see  and  think 
clearly. 

It  is  perhaps  well  that  audiences  should  cling  to 
the  simple  verdict  of  beauty,  that  they  should  not  be 
led  astray  by  the  vanity  of  finding  an  answer;  else 
the  composer  is  tempted  to  create  mere  riddles.  So 
we  may  decline  to  find  precise  pictures,  and  content 
ourselves  with  the  music.  The  search  is  really  time 
wasted ;  it  is  like  a  man  digging  in  vain  for  gold  and 
missing  the  sunshine  above. 

Strauss  may  have  his  special  meanings.    But  the 

•Born  in  1864. 

261 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

beauty  of  the  work  is  for  us  all-important.  We  may 
expect  him  to  mark  his  scenes.  We  may  not 
care  to  crack  that  kind  of  a  nut.*  It  is  really 
not  good  eating.  Eather  must  we  be  satisfied  with 
the  pure  beauty  of  the  fruit,  without  a  further  hid- 
den kernel.  There  is  no  doubt,  however,  of  the 
ingenuity  of  these  realistic  touches.  It  is  interesting, 
here,  to  contrast  Strauss  with  Berlioz,  who  told  his 
stories  largely  by  extra-musical  means,  such  as  the 
funeral  trip,  the  knell  of  bells,  the  shepherd's  reed. 
Strauss  at  this  point  joins  with  the  Liszt-Wagner 
group  in  the  use  of  symbolic  motives.  Some  of  his 
themes  have  an  effect  of  tonal  word-painting.  The 
roguish  laugh  of  Eulenspiegel  is  unmistakable. 

It  is  in  the  harmonic  rather  than  the  melodic  field 
that  the  fancy  of  Strauss  soars  the  freest.  It  is  here 
that  his  music  bears  an  individual  stamp  of  beauty. 
Playing  in  and  out  among  the  edges  of  the  main  har- 
mony with  a  multitude  of  ornamental  phrases,  he 
gains  a  new  shimmer  of  brilliancy.  Aside  from  in- 
strumental coloring,  where  he  seems  to  outshine  all 
others  in  dazzling  richness  and  startling  contrasts, 
he  adds  to  the  lustre  by  a  deft  playing  in  the  over- 
tones of  his  harmonies,  casting  the  whole  in  warmest 
hue. 

If  we  imagine  the  same  riotous  license  in  the  realm 
of  tonal  noise, — cacophony,  that  is,  where  the  aim  is 
not  to  enchant,  but  to  frighten,  bewilder,  or  amaze; 

*  Strauss  remarked  that  in  Till  Eulenspiegel  he  had 
given  the  critics  a  hard  nut  to  crack. 

262 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

to  give  some  special  foil  to  sudden  beauty;  or,  last  of 
all,  for  graphic  touch  of  story,  we  have  another  strik- 
ing element  of  Strauss's  art.  The  anticipation  of  a 
Beethoven  in  the  drum  of  the  Scherzo  of  the  Fifth 
Symphony,  or  the  rhythmic  whims  of  a  Schumann  in 
his  Romantic  piano  pieces  suggest  the  path  of  much 
of  this  license.  Again,  as  passing  notes  may  run 
without  heed  of  harmony,  since  ancient  days,  so  long 
sequences  of  other  figures  may  hold  their  moving 
organ-point  against  clashing  changes  of  tonality. 

Apart  from  all  this  is  the  modern  "  counterpoint," 
where,  if  it  is  quite  the  real  thing,  Strauss  has  out- 
done the  boldest  dreams  of  ancient  school  men.  But 
with  the  lack  of  cogent  form,  and  the  multitude  of 
small  motives  it  seems  a  different  kind  of  art.  We 
must  get  into  the  view-point  of  romantic  web  of  in- 
finite threads,  shimmering  or  jarring  in  infinite 
antagonism  (of  delayed  harmony).  By  the  same 
process  comes  always  the  tremendous  accumulation 
towards  the  end.  As  the  end  and  essence  of  the 
theme  seems  a  graphic  quality  rather  than  intrinsic 
melody,  so  the  main  pith  and  point  of  the  music 
lies  in  the  weight  and  power  of  these  final  climaxes. 

TOD   UND   VERKLARUNG    (DEATH  AND   TRANS- 
FIGURATION),   TONE    POEM 

It  may  be  well  to  gather  a  few  general  impressions 
before  we  attempt  the  study  of  a  work  radical  in  its 
departure  from  the  usual  lines  of  tonal  design. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  need  of  vigilance  if 
263 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

we  are  to  catch  the  relevance  of  all  the  strains.  To 
be  sure,  perhaps  this  perception  is  meant  to  be  sub- 
conscious. In  any  case  the  consciousness  would  seem 
to  ensure  a  full  enjoyment. 

It  is  all  based  on  the  motif  of  the  Wagner  drama 
and  of  the  Liszt  symphonies,  and  it  is  carried  to 
quite  as  fine  a  point.  Only  here  we  have  no  accom- 
panying words  to  betray  the  label  of  the  theme.  But 
in  the  quick  flight  of  themes,  how  are  we  to  catch  the 
subtle  meaning?  The  inter-relation  seems  as  close 
as  we  care  to  look,  until  we  are  in  danger  of  seeing 
no  woods  for  the  trees. 

Again  the  danger  of  preconception  is  of  the  great- 
est. We  may  get  our  mind  all  on  the  meaning  and 
all  off  the  music.  The  clear  fact  is  the  themes  do 
have  a  way  of  entering  with  an  air  of  significance 
which  they  challenge  us  to  find.  The  greatest  diffi- 
culty is  to  distinguish  the  themes  that  grow  out  of 
each  other,  as  a  rose  throws  off  its  early  petals,  from 
those  that  have  a  mere  chance  similarity.  Even  this 
likeness  may  have  its  own  intended  meaning,  or  it 
may  be  all  beside  the  mark.  But  we  may  lose  not 
merely  the  musical,  but  even  the  dramatic  sequence 
in  too  close  a  poring  over  themal  derivation.  On  the 
other  hand  we  may  defy  the  composer  himself  and 
take  simply  what  he  gives,  as  if  on  first  performance, 
before  the  commentators  have  had  a  chance  to  breed. 
And  this  may  please  him  best  in  the  end. 

We  must  always  attend  more  to  the  mood  than 
to  themal  detail  as  everywhere  in  real  music,  after 
264 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

all.  Moments  of  delight  and  triumph  we  know  there 
are  in  this  work.  But  they  are  mere  instants.  For 
it  is  all  the  feverish  dream  of  death.  There  can  be 
no  earlier  rest.  Snatches  they  are  of  fancy,  of  illu- 
sion, as,  says  the  priest  in  (Edipus,  is  all  of  life. 

It  may  be  worth  while,  too,  to  see  how  pairs  of 
themes  ever  occur  in  Strauss,  the  second  in  answer, 
almost  in  protest,  to  the  first.  (It  is  not  unlike  the 
pleading  in  the  Fifth  Symphony  of  the  second  theme 
with  the  sense  of  doom  in  the  first.)  So  we  seem  to 
find  a  motive  of  fate,  and  one  of  wondering,  and 
striving;  a  theme  of  beauty  and  one  of  passion, — if 
we  cared  to  tread  on  such  a  dangerous,  tempting 
ground.  Again,  we  may  find  whole  groups  of  phrases 
expressive  of  one  idea,  as  of  beauty,  and  another  of 
anxious  pursuit.  Thus  we  escape  too  literal  a  themal 
association. 

Trying  a  glimpse  from  the  score  pure  and  simple, 
we  find  a  poem,  opposite  the  first  page,  that  is  said 
to  have  been  written  after  the  first  production.  So, 
reluctantly,  we  must  wait  for  the  mere  reinforce- 
ment of  its  evidence. 

Largo,  in  uncertain  key,  begins  the  throb  of  irregu- 
lar rhythm  (in  strings)  that  Bach  and  Chopin  and 
Wagner  have  taught  us  to  associate  with  suffering. 
The  first  figure  is  a  gloomy  descent  of  pairs  of  chords, 
with  a  hopeless  cry  above  (in  the  flutes).  In  the  re- 
currence, the  turn  of  chord  is  at  last  upward.  A 
warmer  hue  of  waving  sounds  (of  harps)  is  poured 
about,  and  a  gentle  vision  appears  on  high,  shadowed 
265 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

quickly  by  a  theme  of  fearful  wondering.    The  chords 
return  as  at  first.    A  new  series  of  descending  tones 

(Flute  an  8ve.  higher) 

.S 


Largo 


(Qboe) 


(Harp  with  arpeggio  groups  of  six  to  the  quarter) 

intrude,  with  a  sterner  sense  of  omen,  and  yield  to  a 
full  melodic  utterance  of  longing  (again  with  the 
(Solo  violin  muted) 


ptv  -  

S     ^^  S" 

(Horns) 

o 

/? 

—  =3 

^  "^  

—  EZZ  

—  ^Ed 

(Harp  with  arpeggio  groups  of  six  to  the  quarter) 


266 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

soothing  play  of  harp),  and  in  the  midst  a  fresh 
theme  of  wistful  fear.  For  a  moment  there  is  a 
brief  glimpse  of  the  former  vision.  Now  the  song, 
less  of  longing  than  of  pure  bliss,  sings  free  and 
clear  its  descending  lay  in  solo  violin,  though  an 
answering  phrase  (in  the  horns)  of  upward  striving 
soon  rises  from  below.  The  vision  now  appears 
again,  the  wondering  monitor  close  beside.  The 
melancholy  chords  return  to  dim  the  beauty.  As  the 
descending  theme  recedes,  the  rising  motive  sings 
a  fuller  course  on  high  with  a  new  note  of  eager, 
anxious  fear. 

All  these  themes  are  of  utmost  pertinence  in  this 
evident  prologue  of  the  story.  Or  at  least  the  germs 
of  all  the  leading  melodies  are  here. 

In  sudden  turn  of  mood  to  high  agitation,  a  stress 
of  wild  desire  rings  out  above  in  pairs  of  sharp 
ascending  chords,  while  below  the  wondering  theme 
rises  in  growing  tumult.  A  whirling  storm  of  the 
two  phrases  ends  in  united  burst  like  hymn  of  battle, 
on  the  line  of  the  wondering  theme,  but  infused  with 


(Bass  doubled  below) 


267 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

resistless  energy.  Now  sings  a  new  discourse  of 
warring  phrases  that  are  dimly  traced  to  the  phase  of 
the  blissful  melody,  above  the  theme  of  upward  striv- 


(Theme  in  woodwind) 


(Answer  in  basses) 


ing.  They  wing  an  eager  course,  undaunted  by  the 
harsh  intruding  chords.  Into  the  midst  presses  the 
forceful  martial  theme.  All  four  elements  are  clearly 
evident.  The  latest  gains  control,  the  other  voices 
for  the  nonce  merely  trembling  in  obedient  rhythm. 
But  a  new  phase  of  the  wistful  motive  appears,  mas- 
terful but  not  o'ermastering,  fiercely  pressing  up- 
wards, —  and  a  slower  of  the  changed  phrase  of  blissful 
song.  The  former  attains  a  height  of  sturdy  ascend- 
ing stride. 

In  spite  of  the  ominous  stress  of  chords  that  grow 
louder  with  the  increasing  storm,  something  of  assur- 
ance comes  with  the  ascending  stride.  More  and 
more  this  seems  the  dominant  idea. 

A  new  paroxysm  of  the  warring  themes  rises  to  the 
first  great  climax  where  the  old  symbol  of  wondering 
268 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

and  striving  attains  a  brief  moment  of  assured  ecstatic 
triumph. 

In  a  new  scene  (meno  mosso),  to  murmuring 
strings  (where  the  theme  of  striving  can  possibly  be 
caught)  the  blissful  melody  sings  in  full  song,  undis- 
turbed save  by  the  former  figure  that  rises  as  if  to 
grasp, — sings  later,  too,  in  close  sequence  of  voices. 
After  a  short  intervening  verse — leicht  bewegt — 
where  the  first  vision  appears  for  a  moment,  the 
song  is  resumed,  still  in  a  kind  of  shadowy  chase  of 
slow  flitting  voices,  senza  espressione.  The  rising, 
eager  phrase  is  disguised  in  dancing  pace,  and  grows 
to  a  graceful  turn  of  tune.  An  end  comes,  poco 
agitato,  with  rude  intrusion  of  the  hymnal  march 
in  harsh  contrast  of  rough  discord;  the  note  of 
anxious  fear,  too,  strikes  in  again.  But  suddenly, 
etwas  breiter,  a  new  joyous  mood  frightens  away  the 
birds  of  evil  omen. 

Right  in  the  midst  of  happenings,  we  must  be 
warned  against  too  close  a  view  of  individual  theme. 
We  must  not  forget  that  it  is  on  the  contrasted  pairs 
and  again  the  separate  groups  of  phrases,  where  all 
have  a  certain  common  modal  purpose,  that  lies  the 
main  burden  of  the  story.  Still  if  we  must  be  curious 
for  fine  derivation,  we  may  see  in  the  new  tune  of 
exultant  chorus  the  late  graceful  turn  that  now,  re- 
versing, ends  in  the  former  rising  phrase.  Against 
it  sings  the  first  line  of  blissful  theme.  And  the  first 
tune  of  graceful  beauty  also  finds  a  place.  But  they 
269 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

all  make  one  single  blended  song,  full  of  glad  bursts 
and  cadences. 

Hardly  dimmed  in  mood,  it  turns  suddenly  into  a 
phase  of  languorous  passion,  in  rich  setting  of  pulsing 
harp,  where  now  the  later  figures,  all  but  the  blissful 
theme,  vanish  before  an  ardent  song  of  the  wondering 
phrase.  The  motive  of  passionate  desire  rises  and 
falls,  and  soars  in  a  path  of  "  endless  melody,"  return- 
ing on  its  own  line  of  flight,  playing  as  if  with  its 
shadow,  catching  its  own  echo  in  the  ecstasy  of  chase. 
And  every  verse  ends  with  a  new  stress  of  the  in- 
sistent upward  stride,  that  grows  ever  in  force  and 
closes  with  big  reverberating  blasts.  The  theme  of 
the  vision  joins  almost  in  rough  guise  of  utmost 
speed,  and  the  rude  marching  song  breaks  in;  some- 
how, though  they  add  to  the  maze,  they  do  not  dispel 
the  joy.  The  ruling  phase  of  passion  now  rumbles 
fiercely  in  lowest  depths.  The  theme  of  beauty  rings 
in  clarion  wind  and  strings,  and  now  the  whole  strife 
ends  in  clearest,  overwhelming  hymn  of  triumphant 
gladness,  all  in  the  strides  of  the  old  wondering, 
striving  phrase. 


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270 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

The  whole  battle  here  is  won.  Though  former 
moments  are  fought  through  again  (and  new  melodies 
grow  out  of  the  old  plaint),  the  triumphant  shout  is 
near  and  returns  (ever  from  a  fresh  tonal  quarter) 
to  chase  away  the  doubt  and  fear.  All  the  former 
phrases  sing  anew,  merging  the  tale  of  their  strife 
in  the  recurring  verse  of  united  paean.  The  song  at 
last  dies  away,  breaking  like  setting  sun  into  glinting 
rays  of  celestial  hue,  that  pale  away  into  dullest 
murmur. 

Still  one  returning  paroxysm,  of  wild  striving  for 
eluding  bliss,  and  then  comes  the  close.  From  lowest 
depths  shadowy  tones  sing  herald  phrases  against 
dim,  distorted  figures  of  the  theme  of  beauty, — that 
lead  to  a  soft  song  of  the  triumphant  hymn,  iran- 
quillo,  in  gentlest  whisper,  but  with  all  the  sense  of 
gladness  and  ever  bolder  straying  of  the  enchanting 
dream.  After  a  final  climax  the  song  ends  in  slow 
vanishing  echoes. 

The  poet  Bitter  is  said  to  have  added,  after  the 
production  of  the  music,  the  poem  printed  on  the 
score,  of  which  the  following  is  a  rather  literal  trans- 
lation : 

In  the  miserable  chamber, 
Dim  with  flick'ring  candlelight, 
Lies  a  man  on  bed  of  sickness. 
Fiercely  but  a  moment  past 
Did  he  wage  with  Death  the  battle; 
Worn  he  sinks  back  into  sleep. 
Save  the  clock's  persistent  ticking 
Not  a  sound  invades  the  room, 
271 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

Where  the  gruesome  quiet  warns  us 
Of  the  neighborhood  of  Death. 
O'er  the  pale,  distended  features 
Plays  a  melancholy  smile. 
Is  he  dreaming  at  life's  border 
Of  his  childhood  golden  days? 

But  a  paltry  shrift  of  sleep 
Death  begrudges  to  his  victim. 
Cruelly  he  wakes  and  shakes  him, 
And  the  fight  begins  anew, — 
Throb  of  life  and  power  of  death, 
And  the  horror  of  the  struggle. 
Neither  wins  the  victory. 
Once  again  the  stillness  reigns. 

Worn  of  battle,  he  relapses 
Sleepless,  as  in  fevered  trance. 
Now  he  sees  before  him  passing 
Of  his  life  each  single  scene: 
First  the  glow  of  childhood  dawn, 
Bright  in  purest  innocence, 
Then  the  bolder  play  of  youth 
Trying  new  discovered  powers, 
Till  he  joins  the  strife  of  men, 
Burning  with  an  eager  passion 
For  the  high  rewards  of  life. — 
To  present  in  greater  beauty 
What  his  inner  eye  beholds, 
This  is  all  his  highest  purpose 
That  has  guided  his  career. 

Cold  and  scornful  does  the  world 

Pile  the  barriers  to  his  striving. 

Is  he  near  his  final  goal, 

Conies  a  thund'rous  "  Halt!  "  to  meet  him. 

272 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

"  Make  the  barrier  a  stepping, 
Ever  higher  keep  your  path." 
Thus  he  presses  on  and  urges, 
Never  ceasing  from  his  aim. — 
What  he  ever  sought  of  yore 
With  his  spirit's  deepeth  longing, 
Now  he  seeks  in  sweat  of  death, 
Seeks — alas!  and  finds  it  never. 
Though  he  grasps  it  clearer  now, 
Though  it  grows  in  living  form, 
He  can  never  all  achieve  it, 
Nor  create  it  in  his  thought. 
Then  the  final  blow  is  sounded 
From  the  hammer-stroke  of  Death, 
Breaks  the  earthly  frame  asunder, 
Seals  the  eye  with  final  night. 
But  a  mighty  host  of  sounds 
Greet  him  from  the  space  of  heaven 
With  the  song  he  sought  below: 
Man  redeemed, — the  world  transfigured. 

DON  JUAN.     (TONE  POEM.) 
A  score  or  more  of  lines  from  Lenau's  poem  of 
the  same  title  stand  as  the  subject  of  the  music. 

0  magic  realm,  illimited,  eternal, 

Of  gloried  woman, — loveliness  supernal! 
Fain  would  I,  in  the  storm  of  stressful  bliss, 
Expire  upon  the  last  one's  lingering  kiss! 

Through  every  realm,  O  friend,  would  wing  my  flight, 
Wherever  Beauty  blooms,  kneel  down  to  each, 

And,  if  for  one  brief  moment,  win  delight! 

1  flee  from  surfeit  and  from  rapture's  cloy, 
Keep  fresh  for  Beauty  service  and  employ, 
Grieving  the  One,  that  All  I  may  enjoy. 

18  273 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

My  lady's  charm  to-day  hath  breath  of  spring, 
To-morrow  may  the  air  of  dungeon  bring. 

When  with  the  new  love  won  I  sweetly  wander, 
No  bliss  is  ours  upfurbish'd  and  regilded; 

A  different  love  has  This  to  That  one  yonder, — 
Not  up  from  ruins  be  my  temple  builded. 

Yea  Love  life  is,  and  ever  must  be  now, 
Cannot  be  changed  or  turned  in  new  direction; 
It  must  expire — here  find  a  resurrection; 

And,  if  'tis  real,  it  nothing  knows  of  rue! 
Each  Beauty  in  the  world  is  sole,  unique ; 
So  must  the  love  be  that  would  Beauty  seek! 
So  long  as  Youth  lives  on  with  pulse  afire, 
Out  to  the  chase!     To  victories  new  aspire! 

It  was  a  wond'rous  lovely  storm  that  drove  me: 
Now  it  is  o'er;  and  calm  all  round,  above  me; 

Sheer  dead  is  every  wish;  all  hopes  o'ershrouded, — 
It  was  perhaps  a  flash  from  heaven  descended, 
Whose  deadly  stroke  left  me  with  powers  ended, 

And  all  the  world,  so  bright  before,  o'erclouded; 
Yet  perchance  not!     Exhausted  is  the  fuel; 
And  on  the  hearth  the  cold  is  fiercely  cruel.* 

In  the  question  of  the  composer's  intent,  of  general 
plan  and  of  concrete  detail,  it  is  well  to  see  that  the 
quotation  from  Lenau's  poem  is  twice  broken  by 
lines  of  omission;  that  there  are  thus  three  principal 
divisions.  It  cannot  be  wise  to  follow  a  certain  kind 
of  interpretation  t  which  is  based  upon  the  plot  of 
Mozart's  opera.  The  spirit  of  Strauss's  music  is 

*  Translation  by  John  P.  Jackson. 

f  In  a  complex  commentary  William  Mauke  finds  Zerlina, 
Anna  and  "  The  Countess  "  in  the  music. 
274 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 


clearly  a  purely  subjective  conception,  where  the 
symbolic  figure  of  fickle  desire  moves  through  scenes 
of  enchantment  to  a  climax  of — barren  despair. 

To  some  extent  Strauss  clearly  follows  the  separate 
parts  of  his  quotation.  Fervent  desire,  sudden  indif- 
ference are  not  to  be  mistaken. 

The  various  love  scenes  may  be  filled  with  special 
characters  without  great  harm,  save  that  the  mind  is 
diverted  from  a  higher  poetic  view  to  a  mere  concrete 
play  of  events.  The  very  quality  of  the  pure  musical 
treatment  thus  loses  nobility  and  significance.  More- 
over the  only  thematic  elements  in  the  design  are  the 
various  "  motives  "  of  the  hero. 

Allegro  molto  con  brio  begins  the  impetuous  main 
theme  in  dashing  ascent, 


Allegro  molto  con  brio 


whimsical  play 


ff  (Woodwind  doubled  in  higher  8ve.) 
275 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


and  masterful  career. 


(Doubled  in  higher  8ve.) 

ra 


The  various  phases  are  mingled  in  spirited  song; 
only  the  very  beginning  seems  reserved  as  a  special 
symbol  of  a  turn  in  the  chase,  of  the  sudden  flame  of 
desire  that  is  kindled  anew. 

In  the  midst  of  a  fresh  burst  of  the  main  phrase 
are  gentle  strains  of  plaint  (flebile).  And  now  a 
tenderly  sad  motive  in  the  wood  sings  against  the 
marching  phrase,  amidst  a  spray  of  light,  dancing 
chords.  Another  song  of  the  main  theme  is  spent  in 
a  vanishing  tremolo  of  strings  and  harp,  and  buried 
in  a  rich  chord  whence  rises  a  new  song  (molto 
espressivo)  or  rather  a  duet,  the  first  of  the  longer 
love-passages. 

The  main  melody  is  begun  in  clarinet  and  horn  and 
instantly  followed  (as  in  canon)  by  violins.  The 
climax  of  this  impassioned  scene  is  a  titanic  chord 
of  minor,  breaking  the  spell ;  the  end  is  in  a  distorted 
strain  of  the  melody,  followed  by  a  listless  refrain  of 
the  (original)  impetuous  motive  (senza  espressione) . 

The  main  theme  breaks  forth  anew,  in  the  spirit 
276 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

of  the  beginning.  It  yields  suddenly  before  the  next 
episode,  a  languorous  song  of  lower  strings  (molto 
appassionato),  strangely  broken  into  by  sighing 
phrases  in  the  high  wood  (flebile).  After  further 
interruption,  the  love  song  is  crowned  by  a  broad 
flowing  melody  (sehr  getragen  und  ausdrucksvoll)  — 
the  main  lyric  utterance  of  all.  It  has  a  full  length 
of  extended  song,  proportioned  to  its  distinguished 
beauty.  The  dual  quality  is  very  clear  throughout 
the  scene.  Much  of  the  song  is  on  a  kindred  phrase 
of  the  lyric  melody  sung  by  the  clarinet  with  dulcet 
chain  of  chords  of  harp. 

Here  strikes  a  climatic  tune  in  forte  unison  of  the 
four  horns  (molto  espressivo  e  marcato).  It  is  the 
clear  utterance  of  a  new  mood  of  the  hero, — a  purely 


(Four  home  jn  unison)  ^  _(Full  orchestra) 


subjective  phase.  With  a  firm  tread,  though  charged 
with  pathos,  it  seems  what  we  might  venture  to  call 
a  symbol  of  renunciation.  It  is  broken  in  upon  by 
a  strange  version  of  the  great  love  song,  agitato  in 
oboes,  losing  all  its  queenly  pace.  As  though  in  final 
answer  comes  again  the  ruthless  phrase  of  horns,  fol- 
lowed now  by  the  original  theme.  Rapidamente  in 
full  force  of  strings  comes  the  coursing  strain  of 
impetuous  desire.  The  old  and  the  new  themes  of  the 
277 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

hero  are  now  in  stirring  encounter,  and  the  latter 
seems  to  prevail. 

The  mood  all  turns  to  humor  and  merrymaking. 
In  gay  dancing  trip  serious  subjects  are  treated  jok- 
ingly (the  great  melody  of  the  horns  is  mockingly 
sung  by  the  harp) , — in  fits  and  gusts.  At  the  height 
the  (first)  tempestuous  motive  once  more  dashes 
upwards  and  yields  to  a  revel  of  the  (second)  whim- 
sical phrase.  A  sense  of  fated  renunciation  seems  to 
pervade  the  play  of  feelings  of  the  hero.  In  the  lull, 
when  the  paroxysm  is  spent,  the  various  figures  of  his 
past  romances  pass  in  shadowy  review ;  the  first  tear- 
ful strain,  the  melody  of  the  first  of  the  longer  epi- 
sodes,— the  main  lyric  song  (agitato). 

In  the  last  big  flaming  forth  of  the  hero's  passion 
victory  is  once  more  with  the  theme  of  renuncia- 
tion,— or  shall  we  say  of  grim  denial  where  there  is 
no  choice. 

Strauss  does  not  defy  tradition  (or  providence)  by 
ending  his  poem  with  a  triumph.  A  final  elemental 
burst  of  passion  stops  abruptly  before  a  long  pause. 
The  end  is  in  dismal,  dying  harmonies, — a  mere  dull 
sigh  of  emptiness,  a  void  of  joy  and  even  of  the  solace 
of  poignant  grief. 

TILL   EU  LEX  SPIEGEL'S   MERRY   PRANKS 
In  the  Manner  of  Ancient  Rogues — In  Rondo  Form 
Hardly   another  subject   could   have   been   more 
happy  for  the  revelling  in  brilliant  pranks  and  con- 
ceits of  a  modern  vein  of  composition.     And  in  the 
278 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

elusive  humor  of  the  subject  is  not  the  least  charm 
and  fitness.  Too  much  stress  has  been  laid  on  the 
graphic  purpose.  There  is  always  a  tendency  to  con- 
strue too  literally.  While  we  must  be  in  full  sym- 
pathy with  the  poetic  story,  there  is  small  need  to  look 
for  each  precise  event.  We  are  tempted  to  go  further, 
almost  in  defiance,  and  say  that  music  need  not  be 
definite,  even  despite  the  composer's  intent.  In  other 
words,  if  the  tonal  poet  designs  and  has  in  mind  a 
group  of  graphic  figures,  he  may  nevertheless  achieve 
a  work  where  the  real  value  and  beauty  lie  in  a  certain 
interlinear  humor  and  poetry, — where  the  labels  can 
in  some  degree  be  disregarded. 

Indeed,  it  is  this  very  abstract  charm  of  music  that 
finds  in  such  a  subject  its  fullest  fitness.  If  we  care 
to  know  the  pranks  exactly,  why  not  turn  to  the  text  ? 
Yet,  reading  the  book,  in  a  way,  destroys  the  spell. 
Better  imagine  the  ideal  rogue,  whimsical,  spritely, 
all  of  the  people  too.  But  in  the  music  is  the  real 
Till.  The  fine  poetry  of  ancient  humor  is  all  there, 
distilled  from  the  dregs  of  folk-lore  that  have  to  us 
lost  their  true  essence.  There  is  in  the  music  a 
daemonic  quality,  inherent  in  the  subject,  that  some- 
how vanishes  with  the  concrete  tale.  So  we  might 
say  the  tonal  picture  is  a  faithful  likeness  precisely 
in  so  far  as  it  does  not  tell  the  facts  of  the  story. 

Indeed,  in  this  mass  of  vulgar  stories  we  cannot 

help  wondering  at  the  reason  for  their  endurance 

through  the  centuries,  until  we  feel  something  of  the 

spirit  of  the  people  in  all  its  phases.    A  true  mirror 

279 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

it  was  of  stupidity  and  injustice,  presented  by  a 
sprite  of  owlish  wisdom,  sporting,  teasing  and  punish- 
ing *  all  about.  It  is  a  kind  of  popular  satire,  with 
a  strong  personal  element  of  a  human  Puck,  or  an 
impish  Eobin  Hood,  with  all  the  fairy  restlessness, 
mocking  at  human  rut  and  empty  custom. 

It  is  perhaps  in  the  multitude  of  the  stories,  para- 
doxical though  it  seem,  that  lies  the  strength.  In  the 
number  of  them  (ninety-two  "  histories  "  there  are) 
is  an  element  of  universality.  It  is  like  the  broom: 
one  straw  does  not  make,  nor  does  the  loss  of  one 
destroy  it;  somewhere  in  the  mass  lies  the  quality 
of  broom. 

In  a  way  Till  is  the  Ulysses  of  German  folk-lore, 
the  hero  of  trickery,  a  kind  of  Reinecke  Fuchs  in  real 
life.  But  he  is  of  the  soil  as  none  of  the  others.  A 
satyr,  in  a  double  sense,  is  Till;  only  he  is  pure 
Teuton,  of  the  latter  middle  ages. 

He  is  every  sort  of  tradesman,  from  tailor  to  doc- 
tor. Many  of  the  stories,  perhaps  the  best,  are  not 
stories  at  all,  but  merely  clever  sayings.  In  most 
of  the  tricks  there  is  a  Roland  for  an  Oliver.  Till 
stops  at  no  estate;  parsons  are  his  favorite  victims. 
He  is,  on  the  whole,  in  favor  with  the  people,  though 
he  played  havoc  with  entire  villages.  Once  he  was 

*  On  leaving  the  scene  of  some  special  mischief,  Till 
would  draw  a  chalk  picture  of  an  owl  on  the  door,  and 
write  below,  Hie  fuit.  The  edition  of  1519  has  a  woodcut 
of  an  owl  resting  on  a  mirror,  that  was  carved  in  stone, 
the  story  goes,  over  Till's  grave. 
280 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 


condemned  to  death  by  the  Liibeck  council.  But  even 
here  it  was  his  enemies,  whom  he  had  defrauded,  that 
sought  revenge.  The  others  excused  the  tricks  and 
applauded  his  escape.  Even  in  death  the  scandal  and 
mischief  do  not  cease. 

The  directions  in  Strauss'  music  are  new  in  their 
kind  and  dignity.  They  belong  quite  specially  to  this 
new  vein  of  tonal  painting.  In  a  double  function, 
they  not  merely  guide  the  player,  but  the  listener 
as  well.  The  humor  is  of  utmost  essence ;  the  humor 
is  the  thing,  not  the  play,  nor  the  story  of  each  of 
the  pranks,  in  turn,  of  our  jolly  rogue.  And  the 
humor  lies  much  in  these  words  of  the  composer,  that 
give  the  lilt  of  motion  and  betray  a  sense  of  the 
intended  meaning. 
Gemachlich 


The  tune,  sung  at  the  outset  gemachlich  (com- 
fortably), is  presumably  the  rogue  motif,  first  in  pure 
innocence  of  mood.  But  quickly  comes  another, 
quite  opposed  in  rhythm,  that  soon  hurries  into  high- 
est speed.  These  are  not  the  "  subjects "  of  old 
tradition. 

281 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


And  first  we  are  almost  inclined  to  take  the  "  Rondo 
form  "  as  a  new  roguish  prank.  But  we  may  find  a 
form  where  the  subjects  are  independent  of  the  basic 
themes  that  weave  in  and  out  unfettered  by  rule — 
where  the  subjects  are  rather  new  grouping  of  the 
fundamental  symbols.* 

After  a  pause  in  the  furious  course  of  the  second 
theme,  a  quick  piping  phrase  sounds  lustig  (merrily) 
in  the  clarinet,  answered  by  a  chord  of  ominous 

Motto  allegro 
(Clar.)' 

T"'  » 


lustig 


token.    But  slowly  do  we  trace  the  laughing  phrase 
to  the  first  theme. 

And  here  is  a  new  whim.    Though  still  in  full  tilt, . 
the  touch  of  demon  is  gone  in  a  kind  of  ursine  clog 
of  the  basses.    Merely  jaunty  and  clownish  it  would 
be  but  for  the  mischievous  scream   (of  high  flute) 
at  the  end.    And  now  begins  a  rage  of  pranks,  where 

*  It   is   like   the  Finale  of   Brahms'   Fourth   Symphony, 
where  an  older  form    (of  passacaglia)    is  reared  together 
with  a  later,  one  within  the  other. 
282 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 


the  main  phrase  is  the  rogue's  laugh,  rising  in  bril- 
liant gamut  of  outer  pitch  and  inner  mood. 

At  times  the  humor  is  in  the  spirit  of  a  Jean  Paul, 
playing  between  rough  fun  and  sadness  in  a  fine 
spectrum  of  moods.  The  lignter  motive  dances  harm- 
lessly about  the  more  serious,  intimate  second  phrase. 
There  is  almost  the  sense  of  lullaby  before  the  sudden 
plunge  to  wildest  chaos,  the  only  portent  being  a  con- 
stant trembling  of  low  strings.  All  Bedlam  is  let 
loose,  where  the  rogue's  shriek  is  heard  through  a 
confused  cackling  and  a  medley  of  voices  here  and 
there  on  the  running  phrase  (that  ever  ends  the  sec- 
ond theme).  The  sound  of  a  big  rattle  is  added  to 
the  scene, — where  perhaps  the  whole  village  is  in  an 
uproar  over  some  wholesale  trick  of  the  rogue. 

And  what  are  we  to  say  to  this  simplest  swing  of 
folk-song  that  steals  in  naively  to  enchanting  strum 
of  rhythm.  We  may  speculate  about  the  Till  as  the 


i  J[   3-1  i 


people  saw  him,  while  elsewhere  we  have  the  personal 
view.     The  folk-tunes  may  not  have  a  special  dra- 
matic role.     Out  of  the  text  of  folk-song,  to  be  sure, 
283 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


all  the  strains  are  woven.  Here  and  there  we  have 
the  collective  voice.  If  we  have  watched  keenly,  we 
have  heard  how  the  tune,  simply  though  it  begins,  has 
later  all  the  line  of  TilPs  personal  phrase.  Even  in 
the  bass  it  is,  too.  Of  the  same  fibre  is  this  demon 
mockery  and  the  thread  of  folk  legend. 

We  cannot  pretend  to  follow  all  the  literal  whims. 
And  it  is  part  of  the  very  design  that  we  are  ever 
surprised  by  new  tricks,  as  by  this  saucy  trip  of  danc- 
ing phrase.  The  purely  human  touches  are  clear, 
and  almost  moving  in  contrast  with  the  impish  humor. 

An  earlier  puzzle  is  of  the  second  theme.  As  the 
composer  has  refused  to  help  us,  he  will  not  quarrel 
if  we  find  our  own  construction.  A  possible  clue  there 
is.  As  the  story  proceeds,  aside  from  the  mere 
abounding  fun  and  poetry,  the  more  serious  theme 
prevails.  Things  are  happening.  And  there  come 
the  tell-tale  directions.  Liebegluhend,  aflame  with 
love,  a  melody  now  sings  in  urgent  pace,  ending  with 


Liebegluhend 


284 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

a  strange  descending  note.  Presently  in  quieter  mood, 
ruhiger,  it  gains  a  new  grace,  merely  to  dash  again, 
wiitend,  into  a  fiercer  rage  than  before.  Before  long 
we  cannot  escape  in  all  this  newer  melody  a  mere 
slower  outline  of  the  second  theme.  A  guess  then, 
such  as  the  composer  invites  us  to  make,  is  this: 
It  is  not  exactly  a  Jekyll  and  Hyde,  but  not  altogether 
different.  Here  (in  the  second  theme,  of  horn)  is 
Till  himself, — not  the  rogue,  but  the  man  in  his 
likes  and  loves  and  suffering.  The  rogue  is  another, 
a  demon  that  possesses  him  to  tease  mankind,  to 
tease  himself  out  of  his  happiness.  During  the  pa&- 
sionate  episode  the  rogue  is  banned,  save  for  a  grimace 
now  and  then,  until  the  climax,  when  all  in  disguise  of 
long  passionate  notes  of  resonant  bass  the  demon 
theme  has  full  control.  But  for  once  it  is  in  earnest, 
in  dead  earnest,  we  might  say.  And  the  ominous 
chord  has  a  supreme  moment,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
fulfilment. 

A  new  note  sounds  in  solemn  legend  of  lowest 
wood,  sadly  beautiful,  with  a  touch  of  funeral  pace.* 

The  impish  laugh  still  keeps  intruding.  But 
throughout  the  scene  it  is  the  Till  motive,  not  the 
rogue,  that  fits  the  stride  of  the  death-march.  To  be 
sure  the  rogue  anon  laughs  bravely.  But  the  other 
figure  is  in  full  view. 

*  Strauss  told  the  writer  that  this  was  the  march  of  the 
jurymen, — "  der  Marsck  der  Schoffen."  Reproached  for 
killing  Till,  he  admitted  that  he  had  taken  a  license  with 
the  story  and  added:  "In  the  epilogue, — there  he  lives." 

285 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 
( Lowest  woodwind) 


The  sombre  legend  is,  indeed,  in  a  separate  phase, 
its  beauty  now  distorted  in  a  feverish  chase  of  voices 
on  the  main  phrase.  It  is  all  a  second  climax,  of  a 
certain  note  of  terror, — of  fate.  In  the  midst  is  a 
dash  of  the  rogue's  heartiest  laugh,  amid  the  echoes 
of  the  fearful  chord,  while  the  growing  roar  of  the 
mob  can  be  heard  below.  Once  again  it  rings  out 
undaunted,  and  then  to  the  sauciest  of  folk-tunes, 
leichtfertig,  Till  dances  gaily  and  jauntily.  Pres- 
ently, in  a  mystic  passage,  schnell  und  schattenhaft 
Leichtfertig 


clarinets  and  horns) 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

(like  fleeting  shadow)  a  phantom  of  the  rogue's  figure 
passes  stealthily  across  the  horizon. 

Etwas  gemdclilicher,  a  graceful  duet  weaves  pret- 
tily out  of  the  Till  motive,  while  the  other  roars  very 
gently  in  chastened  tones  of  softest  horns. 


The  first  course  of  themes  now  all  recurs,  though 
some  of  the  roguery  is  softened  and  soon  trips  into 
purest  folk-dance.  And  yet  it  is  all  built  of  the  rascal 
theme.  It  might  (for  another  idle  guess)  be  a  general 
rejoicing.  Besides  the  tuneful  dance,  the  personal 
phrase  is  laughing  and  chuckling  in  between. 

The  rejoicing  has  a  big  climax  in  the  first  folk-song 
of  all,  that  now  returns  in  full  blast  of  horns  against 
a  united  dance  of  strings  and  wood.  After  a  roll  of 
287 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

drum  loud  clanging  strokes  sound  threatening  (dro- 
hend)  in  low  bass  and  strings,  to  which  the  rascal 
pipes  his  theme  indifferently  (gleichgultig} .  The 
third  time,  his  answer  has  a  simulated  sound  (ent- 
stellt).  Finally,  on  the  insistent  thud  comes  a 
piteous  phrase  (kldglich)  in  running  thirds.  The 
dread  chords  at  last  vanish,  in  the  strings.  It  is  very 
like  an  actual,  physical  end.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  composer  here  intends  the  death  of  Till,  in  face 
of  the  tradition. 

Follows  the  epilogue,  where  in  the  comfortable 
swing  of  the  beginning  the  first  melody  is  extended 
in  full  beauty  and  significance.  All  the  pleasantry  of 
the  rogue  is  here,  and  at  the  end  a  last  fierce  burst 
of  the  demon  laugh, 

"  8INFONIA  DOMESTICA." 

The  work  followed  a  series  of  tone-poems  where 
the  graphic  aim  is  shown  far  beyond  the  dreams  even 
of  a  Berlioz.  It  may  be  said  that  Strauss,  strong 
evidence  to  the  contrary,  does  not  mean  more  than 
a  suggestion  of  the  mood, — that  he  plays  in  the  humor 
and  poetry  of  his  subject  rather  than  depicts  the  full 
story.  It  is  certainly  better  to  hold  to  this  view  as 
long  as  possible.  The  frightening  penalty  of  the  game 
of  exact  meanings  is  that  if  there  is  one  here,  there 
must  be  another  there  and  everywhere.  There  is  no 
blinking  the  signs  of  some  sort  of  plot  in  our  domes- 
tic symphony,  with  figures  and  situations.  The  best 
288 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

way  is  to  lay  them  before  the  hearer  and  leave  him  to 
his  own  reception. 

In  the  usual  sense,  there  are  no  separate  movements. 
Though  "  Scherzo  "  is  printed  after  the  first  appear- 
ance of  the  three  main  figures,  and  later  "  Adagio  " 
and  "  Finale,"  the  interplay  and  recurrence  of  initial 
themes  is  too  constant  for  the  traditional  division. 
It  is  all  a  close-woven  drama  in  one  act,  with  rapidly 
changing  scenes.  Eeally  more  important  than  the 
conventional  Italian  names  are  such  headings  as 
"Wiegenlied"  (Cradle-song),  and  above  all,  the 
numerous  directions.  Here  is  an  almost  conclusive 
proof  of  definite  intent.  To  be  sure,  even  a  figure  on 
canvas  is  not  the  man  himself.  Indeed,  as  music 
approaches  graphic  realism,  it  is  strange  how  painting 
goes  the  other  way.  Or  rather,  starting  from  opposite 
points,  the  two  arts  are  nearing  each  other.  As  modern 
painting  tends  to  give  the  feeling  of  a  subject,  the 
subjective  impression  rather  than  the  literal  outline, 
we  can  conceive  even  in  latest  musical  realism  the 
"  atmosphere  "  as  the  principal  aim.  In  other  words, 
we  may  view  Strauss  as  a  sort  of  modern  impression- 
ist tone-painter,  and  so  get  the  best  view  of  his 
pictures. 

Indeed,  cacophony  is  alone  a  most  suggestive 
subject.  In  the  first  place  the  term  is  always 
relative,  never  absolute, — relative  in  the  historic 
period  of  the  composition,  or  relative  as  to  the  pur- 
pose. One  can  hardly  say  that  any  combination  of 
notes  is  unusable.  Most  striking  it  is  how  the  same 
19  289 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

group  of  notes  makes  hideous  waste  in  one  case,  and 
a  true  tonal  logic  in  another.  Again,  what  was  im- 
possible in  Mozart's  time,  may  be  commonplace  to-day. 

You  cannot  stamp  cacophony  as  a  mere  whim  of 
modern  decadence.  Beethoven  made  the  noblest  use 
of  it  and  suffered  misunderstanding.  Bach  has  it  in 
his  scores  with  profound  effect.  And  then  the  license 
of  one  age  begets  a  greater  in  the  next.  It  is  so  in 
poetry,  though  in  far  less  degree.  For,  in  music, 
the  actual  tones  are  the  integral  elements  of  the  art. 
They  are  the  idea  itself;  in  poetry  the  words  merely 
suggest  it. 

A  final  element,  independent  of  the  notes  them- 
selves, is  the  official  numbering  of  themes.  Strauss 
indicates  a  first,  second  and  third  theme,  obviously 
of  the  symphony,  not  of  a  single  movement.  The 
whole  attitude  of  the  composer,  while  it  does  not  com- 
pel, must  strongly  suggest  some  sort  of  guess  of 
intending  meaning.* 

*  At  the  first  production,  in  New  York,  in  obedience  to 
the  composer's  wish,  no  descriptive  notes  were  printed. 
When  the  symphony  was  played,  likewise  under  the  com- 
poser's direction,  in  Berlin  in  December,  1904,  a  brief 
note  in  the  program-book  mentions  the  three  groups  of 
themes,  the  husband's,  the  wife's  and  the  child's,  in  the 
first  movement.  The  other  movements  are  thus  entitled: 

II. — Scherzo.  Parents'  happiness.  Childish  play. 
Cradle-song  (the  clock  strikes  seven  in  the  evening). 

III. — Adagio.  Creation  and  contemplation.  Love  scene. 
Dreams  and  cares  (the  clock  strikes  seven  in  the  morning). 

IV. — Finale.  Awakening  and  merry  dispute  (double 
fugue).  Joyous  conclusion. 

290 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 


The  "  first  theme  "  in  "  comfortable  "  pace,  gliding 

1st  Theme 
Pleasantly 


*i*7j3gi=a^^ 

T"-x'     .          "  "~~~~" 

(Cellos  and  fagots) 


Dreamily 
(Obee) 


dfc 


£ 


(V,*— =f-v.fgv^      ^^ 

•  i         Y^ I E^P  I       i     v^^^~ 

I      X s\  jn/n 


(Cellos,  bassoons  and  horns) 

into  a  "  dreamy  "  phrase,  begins  the  symphony.  Pres- 
Peevishly 


(Clarinets) 
mf  - 


ently  a  "  peevish  "  cry  breaks  in,  in  sudden  altered 
key;  then  on  a  second,  soothing  tonal  change,  a 
strain  sings  "  ardently  "  in  upward  wing  to  a  bold 
climax  and  down  to  gentler  cadence,  the  "peevish" 
cry  still  breaking  in.  The  trumpet  has  a  short  cheery 
291 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 
With  fire 


(Strings) 

call  (Ittstig),  followed  by  a  brisk,  rousing  run  in  wood 
and  strings  (frisch).  A  return  of  the  "comfort- 
able "  phrase  is  quickly  overpowered  by  the  "  second 
theme,"  in  very  lively  manner  (sehr  lebhaft),  with  an 
answering  phrase,  grazioso,  and  light  trills  above. 

2d  Theme  Withjreat  spirit 


(Strings,  wood,  horns  and  harps) 


grazioso 


292 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

The  incidental  phrases  are  thus  opposed  to  the  main 
humor  of  each  theme.  The  serene  first  melody  has 
"peevish"  interruptions;  the  assertive  second  yields 
to  graceful  blandishments.  A  little  later  a  strain 
appears  gefiihlvoll,  "full  of  feeling/'  (that  plays  a 
frequent  part),  but  the  main  (second)  theme  breaks 
in  "  angrily."  Soon  a  storm  is  brewing ;  at  the 
height  the  same  motive  is  sung  insistently.  In  the 
lull,  the  first  phrase  of  all  sings  gaily  (lustig),  and 
then  serenely  (gemachlich)  in  tuneful  tenor.  Various 


(Largely  in  strings) 


parts  of  the  first  theme  are  now  blended  in  mutual 
discourse. 

Amidst  trembling  strings  the  oboe  d'amore  plays 
the  "  third  theme/'    "  Very  tenderly/'  "  quietly,"  the 

3d  Theme  Quietly  (Strings) 


(Oboe  d'Amore) 

second  gives  soothing  answer,  and  the  third  sings  a 
full  melodious  verse. 

293 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Here  a  loud  jangling  noise  tokens  important 
arrivals.  Fierce,  hearty  pulling  of  the  door-bell  ex- 
cites the  parents,  especially  the  mother,  who  is  quite 
in  hysterics.  The  father  takes  it  decidedly  more 
calmly.  The  visitors  presently  appear  in  full  view,  so 
to  speak ;  for  "  the  aunts,"  in  the  trumpets,  exclaim : 
"Just  like  Papa,"  and  the  uncles,  in  the  trombones, 
cry:  "Just  like  Mama"  (ganz  die  Mama).  There 
can  be  no  questioning ;  it  is  all  written  in  the  book. 

It  is  at  least  not  hazardous  to  guess  the  three  figures 
in  the  domestic  symphony.  Now  in  jolly  Scherzo 
(munter)  begin  the  tricks  and  sport  of  babyhood. 
There  is  of  course  but  one  theme,  with  mere  com- 


Qaily.  Scherzo 


(Strings) 


ments  of  parental  phrases  in  varying  accents  of 
affection.  Another  noisy  scene  mars  all  the  peace; 
father  and  child  have  a  strong  disagreement;  the  lat- 
ter is  "  defiant " ;  the  paternal  authority  is  enforced. 
Bed-time  comes  with  the  stroke  of  seven,  a  cradle- 
song  (Wiegenlied)  (where  the  child's  theme  hums 
faintly  below).  Then,  "slowly  and  very  quietly" 
sings  the  "  dreamy  "  phrase  of  the  first  theme,  where 
294 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 
Bather  slowly  (Cradle  song)  (Clarinets  ringing) 


r~f 

(Fagots) 

the  answer,  in  sweeping  descent,  gives  one  of  the 
principal  elements  of  the  later  plot.     It  ends  in  a 
moving  bit  of  tune,  "  very  quietly  and  expressively  " 
(sehr  ruhig  und  innig). 
Adagio,  a  slow  rising  strain  plays  in  the  softer 

Very  quietly  and  expressively 


wood-notes  of  flute,  oboe  d'amore,  English  horn,  and 
the  lower  clarinets;  below  sings  gently  the  second 
theme,  quite  transformed  in  feeling.  Those  upper 
notes,  with  a  touch  of  impassioned  yearning,  are  not 
new  to  our  ears.  That  very  rising  phrase  (the 
"  dreamy  "  motive) ,  if  we  strain,  our  memory,  was  at 
first  below  the  more  vehement  (second)  figure.  So 
295 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Adagio 


now  the  whole  themal  group  is  reversed  outwardly  and 
in  the  inner  feeling.  Indeed,  in  other  places  crops 
out  a  like  expressive  symbol,  and  especially  in  the 
phrase,  marked  gefuhlvoll,  that  followed  the  second 
theme  in  the  beginning.  All  these  motives  here  find  a 
big  concerted  song  in  quiet  motion,  the  true  lyric 
spot  of  the  symphony. 

Out  of  it  emerges  a  full  climax,  bigger  and  broader 
now,  of  the  first  motive.  At  another  stage  the  second 
has  the  lead ;  but  at  the  height  is  a  splendid  verse  of 
the  maternal  song.  At  the  end  the  quiet,  blissful  tune 
sings  again  "  sehr  innig." 

Appassionato  re-enters  the  second  figure.  Mingled 
296 


RICHARD  STRAUSS 

in  its  song  are  the  latest  tune  and  an  earlier  expressive 
phrase  (gefiihlvoll) .  The  storm  that  here  ensues  is 
not  of  dramatic  play  of  opposition.  There  are  no 
"angry"  indications.  It  is  the  full  blossoming  in 
richest  madrigal  of  all  the  themes  of  tenderness  and 
passion  in  an  aureole  of  glowing  harmonies.  The 
morning  comes  with  the  stroke  of  seven  and  the 
awakening  cry  of  the  child. 
The  Finale  begins  in  lively  pace  (sehr  lebhaft)  with 

{Double  Fugue)  1st  theme 
(Four  Bassoons) 


Jslarcato 

a  double  fugue,  where  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  in  the 
first  theme  a  fragment  of  the  "  baby  "  motive.  The 
second  is  a  remarkably  assertive  little  phrase  from  the 
cadence  of  the  second  theme  (quoted  above).  The 
son  is  clearly  the  hero,  mainly  in  sportive  humor, 
although  he  is  not  free  from  parental  interference. 
The  maze  and  rigor  of  the  fugue  do  not  prevent  a  fre- 
quent appearance  of  all  the  other  themes,  and  even 
of  the  full  melodies,  of  which  the  fugal  motives  are 
built.  At  the  climax  of  the  fugue,  in  the  height  of 
speed  and  noise,  something  very  delightful  is  happen- 
ing, some  furious  romp,  perhaps,  of  father  and  son, 
the  mother  smiling  on  the  game.  At  the  close  a  new 
melody  that  we  might  trace,  if  we  cared,  in  earlier 
297 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

origin,  has  a  full  verse  "  quietly  and  simply  "  (rukig 
und  einfach)  in  wood  and  horns,  giving  the  crown 

Quietly  and  simply  (Woodwind  and  horns) 


'(With  sustained  chord  of  cellos) 


and  seal  to  the  whole.  The  rest  is  a  final  happy  re- 
frain of  all  the  strains,  where  the  husband's  themes 
are  clearly  dominant. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
ITALIAN  SYMPHONIES 

THE  present  estate  of  music  in  Italy  is  an  instance 
of  the  danger  of  prophecy  in  the  broad  realm 
of  art.  Wise  words  are  daily  heard  on  the  rise  and 
fall  of  a  nation  in  art,  or  of  a  form  like  the  sym- 
phony, as  though  a  matter  of  certain  fate,  in  strict 
analogy  to  the  life  of  man. 

Italy  was  so  long  regnant  in  music  that  she  seems 
even  yet  its  chosen  land.  We  have  quite  forgotten 
how  she  herself  learned  at  the  feet  of  the  masters 
from  the  distant  North.  For  music  is,  after  all,  the 
art  of  the  North;  the  solace  for  winter's  desolation; 
an  utterance  of  feeling  without  the  model  of  a  visible 
Nature. 

And  yet,  with  a  prodigal  stream  of  native  melody 
and  an  ancient  passion  of  religious  rapture,  Italy 
achieved  masterpieces  in  the  opposite  fields  of  the 
Mass  and  of  Opera.  But  for  the  more  abstract  plane 
of  pure  tonal  forms  it  has  somehow  been  supposed 
that  she  had  neither  a  power  nor  a  desire  for  expres- 
sion. An  Italian  symphony  seems  almost  an  anomaly, 
— as  strange  a  product  as  was  once  a  German  opera. 

The  blunt  truth  of  actual  events  is  that  to-day  a 
renascence  has  begun,  not  merely  in  melodic  and 
dramatic  lines;  there  is  a  new  blending  of  the  racial 
299 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

gift  of  song  with  a  power  of  profound  design.*  De- 
spite all  historical  philosophy,  here  is  a  new  gushing 
forth  from  ancient  fount,  of  which  the  world  may 
rejoice  and  be  refreshed. 

In  a  SYMPHONY  BY  GIOVANNI  SGAMBATI,!  IN  D 
MAJOR,  the  form  flows  with  such  unpremeditated  ease 
that  it  seems  all  to  the  manner  born.  It  may  be  a  new 
evidence  that  to-day  national  lines,  at  least  in  art,  are 
vanishing;  before  long  the  national  quality  will  be 
imperceptible  and  indeed  irrelevant. 

To  be  sure  we  see  here  an  Italian  touch  in  the  sim- 
ple artless  stream  of  tune,  the  warm  resonance,  the 
buoyant  spring  of  rhythm.  The  first  movement 
stands  out  in  the  symphony  with  a  subtler  design 
than  all  the  rest,  though  it  does  not  lack  the  ringing 
note  of  jubilation. 

The  Andante  is  a  pure  lyric  somewhat  new  in  de- 
sign and  in  feeling.  It  shows,  too,  an  interesting 
contrast  of  opposite  kinds  of  slower  melody, — the  one 
dark-hued  and  legend-like,  from  which  the  poet  wings 
his  flight  to  a  hymnal  rhapsody  on  a  clear  choral 

*  In  the  field  of  the  Lied  the  later  group  of  Italians,  such 
as  Sinigaglia  and  Bossi,  show  a  melodic  spontaneity  and 
a  breadth  of  lyric  treatment  that  we  miss  in  the  songs  of 
modern  French  composers. 

In  his  Overture  "  Le  Baruffe  Chiozzote"  (The  Disputes 
of  the  People  of  Chiozza)  Sinigaglia  has  woven  a  charm- 
ing piece  with  lightest  touch  of  masterly  art;  a  delicate 
humor  of  melody  plays  amid  a  wealth  of  counterpoint  that 
is  all  free  of  a  sense  of  learning. 
fBorn  in  1843. 

300 


ITALIAN  SYMPHONIES 

theme,  with  a  rich  setting  of  arpeggio  harmonies. 
A  strange  halting  or  limping  rhythm  is  continued 
throughout  the  former  subject.  In  the  big  climax  the 
feeling  is  strong  of  some  great  chant  or  rite,  of  ves- 
pers or  Magnificat.  Against  convention  the  ending 
returns  to  the  mood  of  sad  legend. 

The  Scherzo  is  a  sparkling  chain  of  dancing  tunes 
of  which  the  third,  of  more  intimate  hue,  somehow 
harks  back  to  the  second  theme  of  the  first  movement. 

A  Trio,  a  dulcet,  tender  song  of  the  wood,  precedes 
the  return  of  the  Scherzo  that  ends  with  the  speaking 
cadence  from  the  first  Allegro. 

A  Serenata  must  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of  Inter- 
mezzo, in  the  Cantilena  manner,  with  an  accompany- 
ing rhythm  suggesting  an  ancient  Spanish  dance. 
It  stands  as  a  foil  between  the  gaiety  of  the  Scherzo 
and  the  jubilation  of  the  Finale. 

The  Finale  is  one  festive  idyll,  full  of  ringing  tune 
and  almost  bucolic  lilt  of  dance.  It  reaches  one  of 
those  happy  jingles  that  we  are  glad  to  hear  the  com- 
poser singing  to  his  heart's  content. 

GIUSEPPE   MARTUCCI.     SYMPHONY   IN   D    MINOR* 
The  very  naturalness,  the  limpid  flow  of  the  melodic 

thought  seem  to  resist  analysis  of  the  design.     The 

listener's  perception  must  be  as  naive  and  spontaneous 

as  was  the  original  conception. 

There  is,  on  the  one  hand,  no  mere  adoption  of  a 

*  Giuseppe  Martucci,  1856-1911. 
301 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

classical  schedule  of  form,  nor,  on  the  other,  the 
over-subtle  workmanship  of  modern  schools.  Fresh 
and  resolute  begins  the  virile  theme  with  a  main 
charm  in  the  motion  itself.  It  lies  not  in  a  tune 
here  or  there,  but  in  a  dual  play  of  responsive  phrases 
at  the  start,  and  then  a  continuous  flow  of  further 
melody  on  the  fillip  of  the  original  rhythm,  inde- 
finable of  outline  in  a  joyous  chanting  of  bass  and 
treble. 

A  first  height  reached,  an  expressive  line  in  the 
following  lull  rises  in  the  cellos,  that  is  the  essence 
of  the  contrasting  idea,  followed  straightway  by  a 
brief  phrase  of  the  kind,  like  some  turns  of  peasant 
song,  that  we  can  hear  contentedly  without  ceasing. 


(Cellos) 


(Lower  reed,  horns  and  strings) 


Again,  as  at  the  beginning,  such  a  wealth  of  melo- 
dies sing  together  that  not  even  the  composer  could 
know  which  he  intended  in  chief.  We  merely  feel, 
instead  of  the  incisive  ring  of  the  first  group,  a  quieter 
power  of  soothing  beauty.  Yet,  heralded  by  a  prelude 
of  sweet  strains,  the  expressive  line  now  enters  like 
a  queenly  figure  over  a  new  rhythmic  motion,  and 
302 


ITALIAN  SYMPHONIES 

flows  on  through  delighting  glimpses  of  new  harmony 
to  a  striking  climax. 

(Flute  and  oboe,  doubled  below  in  clarinet) 


(Strings) 


The  story,  now  that  the  characters  have  appeared, 
continues  in  the  main  with  the  second  browsing  in 
soft  lower  strings,  while  the  first  (in  its  later  phase) 
sings  above  in  the  wood  transformed  in  mildness, 
though  for  a  nonce  the  first  motive  strikes  with  de- 
cisive vigor.  Later  is  a  new  heroic  mood  of  minor, 
quickly  softened  when  the  companion  melody  appears. 
A  chapter  of  more  sombre  hue  follows,  all  with  the 
lilt  and  pace  of  romantic  ballad.  At  last  the  main 
hero  returns  as  at  the  beginning,  only  in  more  splen- 
did panoply,  and  rides  on  'mid  clattering  suite  to 
passionate  triumph.  And  then,  with  quieter  charm, 
sings  again  the  second  figure,  with  the  delighting 
strains  again  and  again  rehearsed,  matching  the  other 
with  the  power  of  sweetness. 

One  special  idyll  there  is  of  carolling  soft  horn  and 

clarinet,  where  a  kind  of  lullaby  flows  like  a  distilled 

essence  from  the  gentler  play — of  the  heroic  tune, 

before   its   last  big  verse,   with   a   mighty   flow  of 

303 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


doJce  e  tranquillo 
(Horn) 


(Two  horna) 


(Clarinet) 

sequence,  and  splendidly  here  the  second  figure  crowns 
the  pageant.  At  the  passionate  height,  over  long 
ringing  chord,  the  latter  sings  a  sonorous  line  in 
lengthened  notes  of  the  wood  and  horns.  The  first 
climax  is  here,  in  big;  coursing  strains,  then  it  slowly 
lulls,  with  a  new  verse  of  the  idyll,  to  a  final  hush. 

The  second  movement  is  a  brief  lyric  with  one  main 
melody,  sung  at  first  by  a  solo  cello  amidst  a  weaving 
of  muted  strings;  later  it  is  taken  up  by  the  first 
violins.  The  solo  cello  returns  for  a  further  song  in 
duet  with  the  violins,  where  the  violas,  too,  entwine 
their  melody,  or  the  cello  is  joined  by  the  violins. 

Now  the  chief  melody  returns  for  a  richer  and 
varied  setting  with  horns  and  woodwind.  At  last  the 
first  violins,  paired  in  octave  with  the  cello,  sing  the 
full  melody  in  a  madrigal  of  lesser  strains. 

An  epilogue  answers  the  prologue  of  the  beginning. 

Equally  brief  is  the  true  Scherzo,  though  merely 
entitled  Allegretto, — a  dainty  frolic  without  the  heavy 
brass,  an  indefinable  conceit  of  airy  fantasy,  with  here 
and  there  a  line  of  sober  melody  peeping  between  the 
mischievous  pranks.  There  is  no  contrasting  Trio 
in  the  middle;  but  just  before  the  end  comes  a 
304 


ITALIAN  SYMPHONIES 


quiet  pace  as  of  mock-gravity,  before  a  final  scamper. 

A  preluding  fantasy  begins  in  the  mood  of  the 
early  Allegro;  a  wistful  melody  of  the  clarinet  plays 
more  slowly  between  cryptic  reminders  of  the  first 
theme  of  the  symphony.  In  sudden  Allegro  risoluto 
over  rumbling  bass  of  strings,  a  mystic  call  of  horns, 
harking  far  back,  spreads  its  echoing  ripples  all  about 
till  it  rises  in  united  tones,  with  a  clear,  descending 
answer,  much  like  the  original  first  motive.  The 
latter  now  continues  in  the  bass  in  large  and  smaller 
pace  beneath  a  new  tuneful  treble  of  violins,  while 
the  call  still  roams  a  free  course  in  the  wind.  Oft 
repeated  is  this  resonation  in  paired  harmonies,  the 
lower  phrase  like  an  "  obstinate  bass." 

Leaving  the  fantasy,  the  voices  sing  in  simple  choral 
lines  a  hymnal  song  in  triumphal  pace,  with  firm 
cadence  and  answer,  ending  at  length  in  the  descend- 


Allegro  risoluto   . 


(Strings,  with  added  wood  and  horns) 


ing  phrase.     The  full  song  is  repeated,  from  the 
entrance  of  the  latter,  as  though  to  stress  the  two 
main  melodies.    The  marching  chorus  halts  briefly 
20  305 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

when  the  clarinet  begins  again  a  mystic  verse  on  the 
strain  of  the  call,  where  the  descending  phrase  is 
intermingled  in  the  horns  and  strings. 

There  is  a  new  horizon  here.  We  can  no  longer 
speak  with  half-condescension  of  Italian  simplicity, 
though  another  kind  of  primal  feeling  is  mingled  in 
a  breadth  of  symphonic  vein.  We  feel  that  our  Ital- 
ian poet  has  cast  loose  his  leading  strings  and  is 
revealing  new  glimpses  through  the  classic  form. 

Against  a  free  course  of  quicker  figures  rises  in  the 
horns  the  simple  melodic  call,  with  answer  and 
counter-tunes  in  separate  discussion.  Here  comes 
storming  in  a  strident  line  of  the  inverted  melody 
in  the  bassoon,  quarrelling  with  the  original  motive 
in  the  clarinet.  Then  a  group  sing  the  song  in  danc- 
ing trip,  descending  against  the  stern  rising  theme 
of  violas ;  or  one  choir  follows  on  the  heels  of  another. 
Now  into  the  play  intrudes  the  second  melody,  like- 
wise in  serried  chase  of  imitation. 

The  two  themes  seem  to  be  battling  for  dominance, 
and  the  former  wins,  shouting  its  primal  tune  in  brass 
and  wood,  while  the  second  sinks  to  a  rude  clattering 
rhythm  in  the  bass.  But  out  of  the  clash,  where  the 
descending  phrase  recurs  in  the  basses,  the  second 
melody  emerges  in  full  sonorous  song.  Suddenly  at 
the  top  of  the  verse  rings  out  in  stentorian  brass  the 
first  theme  of  all  the  symphony  to  the  opening  chord 
of  the  Finale,  just  as  it  rang  at  the  climax  in  the 
beginning. 

306 


ITALIAN  SYMPHONIES 

A  gentle  duet  of  violins  and  clarinet  seems  to 
bring  back  the  second  melody  of  the  first  movement, 
and  somehow,  in  the  softer  mood,  shows  a  likeness 
with  the  second  of  the  Finale.  For  a  last  surprise, 
the  former  idyll  (of  the  first  Allegro)  returns  and 
clearly  proves  the  original  guise  of  our  latest  main 
melody.  As  though  to  assure  its  own  identity  as  pre- 
vailing motto,  it  has  a  special  celebration  in  the 
final  joyous  revel. 


307 


CHAPTER  XX 
EDWARD  ELGAR.  AN  ENGLISH  SYMPHONY* 

THERE  is  a  rare  nobility  in  the  simple  melody, 
the  vein  of  primal  hymn,  that  marks  the  invo- 
cation,— in   solemn  wood   against  stately  stride  of 

(Andante  ndbilmente  e  xtmplice} 
^  (Woodwind)  ^.f— 


P  dolce 


&&** 


? 


£*tt 


ij££ 


Con  8ve. 
(Basses  of  strings,  staccato} 

lower  strings.  A  true  ancient  charm  is  in  the  tune, 
with  a  fervor  at  the  high  point  and  a  lilt  almost  of 
lullaby, — till  the  whole  chorus  begins  anew  as  though 
the  song  of  marching  hosts.  Solemnity  is  the  essence 
here,  not  of  artificial  ceremony  nor  of  rhymeless  chant, 
— rather  of  prehistoric  hymn. 

In  passionate  recoil  is  the  upward  storming  song 
(Allegro)  where  a  group  of  horns  aid  the  surging 
crest  of  strings  and  wood, — a  resistless  motion  of 
massed  melody.  Most  thrilling  after  the  first  climax 
is  the  sonorous,  vibrant  stroke  of  the  bass  in  the 

*  Symphony  in  A  flat.    Edward  Elgar,  born  in  1857. 
308 


EDWARD  ELGAR 
>     Allegro  appassionato 


1 — v«  Nv-S 


^=*  T  <j  J 


0  .  __ 

(Strings,  wood  and  horns)  — ~    r: 

(See  page  308,  line  10.) 

recurring  melody.  As  it  proceeds,  a  new  line  of 
bold  tune  is  stirred  above,  till  the  song  ends  at  the 
highest  in  a  few  ringing,  challenging]  leaps  of  chord, — 
ends  or,  rather  merges  in  a  relentless,  concluding 
descent.  Here,  in  a  strikingi  phrase  of  double 
(Violins  and  clarinets  in  succession) 


, 
(Strings,  the  upper  3d  doubled  in  higher  reed) 


309 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


song,  is  a  touch  of  plaint  that,  hushing,  heralds 
the  coming  gentle  figure.  We  are  sunk  in  a  sweet 
romance,  still  of  ancientest  lore,  with  a  sense  of  lost 
bliss  in  the  wistful  cadence.  Or  do  these  entrancing 
strains  lead  merely  to  the  broader  melody  that  moves 
with  queenly  tread  (of  descending  violins)  above  a 
soft  murmuring  of  lower  figures?  It  is  taken  up 


(Violins) 


(Harp  and  wood 
doubled  above) 


Jet 


i — r 


in  a  lower  voice  and  rises  to  a  height  of  inner  throb 
rather  than  of  outer  stress.  The  song  departs  as  it 
came,  through  the  tearful  plaint  of  double  phrase. 
Bolder  accents  merge  suddenly  into  the  former  im- 
passioned song.  Here  is  the  real  sting  of  warrior 
call,  with  shaking  brass  and  rolling  drum,  in  length- 
ened swing  against  other  faster  sounds, — a  revel  of 
heroics,  that  at  the  end  breaks  afresh  into  the  regular 
song. 

Yet  it  is  all  more  than  mere  battle-music.  For  here 

is  a  new  passionate  vehemence,  with  loudest  force  of 

vibrant  brass,  of  those  dulcet  strains  that  preceded 

the  queenly  melody.     An  epic  it  is,  at  the  least,  of 

310 


EDWARD  ELGAR 


ancient  flavor,  and  the  sweeter  romance  here  rises 
to  a  tempest  more  overpowering  than  martial  tumult. 
It  is  in  the  harking  back  to  primal  lore  that  we 
seem  to  feel  true  passion  at  its  best  and  purest, 
as  somehow  all  truth  of  legend,  proverb  and  fable 
has  come  from  those  misty  ages  of  the  earth.  The 
drooping  harmonies  merge  in  the  returning  swing  of 
the  first  solemn  hymn,  —  a  mere  line  that  is  broken  by 
a  new  tender  appeal,  that,  rising  to  a  moving  height, 


(Strings) 


i 


-A— (=- 


*— r- 


f)f)  teneramente 


o  fg       fa-  ,•  »r  i  r   * 

o     U  jf    L     IK---^     fa 

2-f         IfFfH^p 


yields  to  the  former  plaint  (of  throbbing  thirds). 

A  longer  elegy  sings,  with  a  fine  poignancy,  bold 
and  new  in  the  very  delicacy  of  texture,  in  the  sharp 
impinging  of  these  gentlest  sounds.  In  the  depths 
of  the  dirge  suddenly,  though  quietly,  sounds  the 
herald  melody  high  in  the  wood,  with  ever  firmer 
cheer,  soon  in  golden  horns,  at  last  in  impassioned 
strings,  followed  by  the  wistful  motive. 

A  phase  here  begins  as  of  dull  foreboding,  with  a 
new  figure  stalking  in  the  depths  and,  above,  a  brief 
sigh  in  the  wind.  In  the  growing  stress  these  figures 
311 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

sing  from  opposite  quarters,  the  sobbing  phrase 
below,  when  suddenly  the  queenly  melody  stills  the 
tumult.  It  is  answered  by  a  dim,  slow  line  of  the 
ominous  motive.  Quicker  echoes  of  the  earlier  de- 
spond still  flit  here  and  there,  with  gleams  of  joyous 
light.  The  plaintive  (dual)  song  returns  and  too 
the  tender  appeal,  which  with  its  sweetness  at  last 
wakens  the  buoyant  spirit  of  the  virile  theme. 

And  so  pass  again  the  earlier  phases  of  resolution 
with  the  masterful  conclusion;  the  tearful  accents-; 
the  brief  verse  of  romance,  and  the  sweep  of  queenly 
figure,  rising  again  to  almost  exultation.  But  here, 
instead  of  tears  and  recoil,  is  the  brief  sigh  over  som- 
bre harmonies,  rising  insistent  in  growing  volume  that 
somehow  conquers  its  own  mood.  A  return  of  the 
virile  motive  is  followed  at  the  heigjit  by  the  throb- 
bing dual  song  with  vehement  stress  of  grief,  falling 
to  lowest  echoes. 

Here  begins  the  epilogue  with  the  original  solemn 
ihymn.  Only  it  is  now  entwined  with  shreds  and 
memories  of  romance,  flowing1  tranquilly  on  through 
gusts  of  passion.  And  there  is  the  dull  sob  with 
the  sudden  gleam  of  joyous  light.  But  the  hymn 
returns  like  a  sombre  solace  of  oblivion, — though  there 
is  a  final  strain  of  the  wistful  romance,  ending  in 
sad  harmony. 

II. — Allegro   molto.     The   Scherzo    (as   we   may 

venture  to  call   it)    begins  with  a  breath  of  new 

harmony,  or  is  it  a  blended  magic  of  rhythm,  tune 

and  chord?     Far  more  than  merely  bizarre,  it  calls 

312 


EDWARD  ELGAR 


up  a  vision  of  Celtic  warriors,  the  wild,  free  spirit  of 
Northern  races.     The  rushing  jig  or  reel  is  halted 

Allegro  motto 


(Strings  with 
kettle-drum) 

anon  by  longer  notes  in  a  drop  of  the  tune  and  in- 
stantly returns  to  the  quicker  run.  Below  plays  a 
kind  of  drum-roll  of  rumbling  strings.  Other  revel- 
ling pranks  appear,  of  skipping  wood,  rushing  harp 
and  dancing  strings,  till  at  last  sounds  a  clearer  tune, 
a  restrained  war-march  with  touch  of  terror  in  the 
soft  subdued  chords,  suddenly  growing  to  expressive 

'    i  jj  (Violas  and  clarinets) 


flfl  (Wood,  basses  and  strings) 
volume  as  it  sounds  all  about,  in  treble  and  in  bass. 
At  last  the  war-song  rings  in  full  triumphant  blast, 
where  trumpets  and  the  shrill  fife  lead,  and  the  lower 
brass,  with  cymbals  and  drums  (big  and  little)  mark 
313 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

the  march.  Then  to  the  returning  pranks  the  tune 
roars  in  low  basses  and  reeds,  and  at  last  a  big  con- 
clusive phrase  descends  from  the  height  to  meet  the 
rising  figure  of  the  basses. 

Now  the  reel  dances  in  furious  tumult  (instead 
of  the  first  whisper)  and  dies  down  through  the  slower 
cadence. 

An  entirely  new  scene  is  here.  To  a  blended  tinkle 
of  harp,  reeds  and  high  strings  sounds  a  delicate  air, 
quick  and  light,  yet  with  a  tinge  ol  plaint  that  may 
be  a  part  of  all  Celtic  song.  It  were  rude  to  spoil 


(Woodwind,  with  a  triplet 

pulse  of  harp  and  rhythmic  strings) 

its  fine  fragrance  with  some  rough  title  of  meaning; 
nor  do  we  feel  a  strong  sense  of  romance,  rather  a 
whim  of  Northern  fantasy. 

Over  a  single  note  of  bass  sings  a  new  strain  of 
elegy,  taken  up  by  other  voices,  varying  with  the 


(Clarinets) 

tinkling  air.  Suddenly  in  rushes  the  first  reel,  softly 
as  at  first;  but  over  it  sings  still  the  new  sad  tune, 
then  yields  to  the  wild  whims  and  pranks  that  lead  to 
the  war-song  in  resonant  chorus,  joined  at  the  height 
314 


EDWARD  ELGAR 


by  the  reel  below.  They  change  places,  the  tune 
ringing  in  the  bass.  In  the  martial  tumult  the  tink- 
ling air  is  likewise  infected  with  saucy  vigor,  but 
suddenly  retires  abashed  into  its  shell  of  fairy  sound, 
and  over  it  sings  the  elegy  in  various  choirs.  The 
tinkling  melody  falls  suddenly  into  a  new  flow  of 
moving  song,  rising  to  pure  lyric  fervor.  The  soft 
air  has  somehow  the  main  say,  has  reached  the  high 
point,  has  touched  the  heart  of  the  movement.  Ex- 
pressively it  slowly  sinks  away  amid  echoing  phrases 
and  yields  to  the  duet  of  elegy  and  the  first  reel. 
But  a  new  spirit  has  appeared.  The  sting  of  war-song 
is  gone.  And  here  is  the  reel  in  slow  reluctant  pace. 
After  another  verse  of  the  fairy  tune,  the  jig  plays 
still  slower,  while  above  sings  a  new  melody.  Still 
slower  the  jig  has  fallen  almost  to  funeral  pace,  has 
grown  to  a  new  song  of  its  own,  though,  to  be  sure, 
brief  reminders  of  the  first  dance  jingle  softly  here 
and  there.  And  now  the  (hushed)  shadow  of  the 
war-song  in  quite  slower  gait  strides  in  lowest  basses 
and  passes  quietly  straight  into  the  Adagio. 

(Strings  with  lower  reeds  and  horns) 
Adagio  ^   _     _. 

-^—i 


315 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


///. — Assured  peace  is  in  the  simple  sincere 
melody,  rising  to  a  glow  of  passion.  But — is  this 
a  jest  of  our  poet  ?  Or  rather  now  we  see  why  there 
was  no  halt  at  the  end  of  the  Scherzo.  For  the 
soothing  melody  is  in  the  very  notes  of  the  impish 
reel, — is  the  same  tune.*  Suddenly  hushing,  the 
song  hangs  on  high  over  delicate  minor  harmonies. 

In  exquisite  hues  an  intimate  dialogue  ensues, 
almost  too  personal  for  the  epic  vein,  a  discourse  or 
madrigal  of  finest  fibre  that  breaks  (like  rays  of  set- 
ting sun)  into  a  melting  cadence  of  regret.  We  are 
doubly  thrilled  in  harking  back  to  the  sweet,  wistful 
romance,  the  strain  of  the  first  movement. 


(Harp,  wood  and  strings) 


Across  the  gauzy  play,  horns  and  wood  blow  a  slow 
phrase,  like  a  motto  of  Fate  in  the  sombre  harmony, 
with  one  ardent  burst  of  pleading. 

*  There  seems  to  be  shown  in  this  feat  at  once  the  versa- 
tility of  music  as  well  as  the  musician  in  expressing  oppo- 
site moods  by  the  same  theme.  The  author  does  not  feel 
bound  to  trace  all  such  analogies,  as  in  the  too  close 
pursuit  we  may  lose  the  forest  in  the  jungle. 
316 


EDWARD  ELGAR 

In  clearer  articulation  sings  a  dual  song,  still 
softly  o'ercast  with  sweet  sadness,  ever  richer  in  the 
harmonies  of  multiple  strings,  tipped  with  the 
light  mood, — and  again  the  wistful  cadence.  Siren 
figures  of  entrancing  grace  that  move  amid  the 
other  melody,  bring  enchantment  that  has  no  cheer, 
nor  escape  the  insistent  sighing  phrase.  Once  more 
come  the  ominous  call  and  the  passionate  plea,  then 
assurance  with  the  returning  main  melody  in  renewed 
fervor.  Phases  of  dual  melody  end  again  with  the 
wistful  cadence.  The  tranquil  close  is  like  one  sus- 
tained fatal  farewell,  where  the  fairy  figures  but 
stress  the  sad  burden. 

IV. — The  beginning  is  in  lowest  depths  (Largo). 
First  is  the  stalking  figure  of  earliest  movement, 
from  the  moment  of  despond.  It  is  answered  by  a 
steadily  striding  theme,  almost  martial,  save  for  the 

LfnU>     '    Jfl  _J     i     l  J      I    J    j    ^  _J 

T  j  H 1 1 — j     rM     4     J     €  ^  I  »- 

j  ;ii/  *  -  H 


W  -Z7- 

(Pizz.  cellos  with  slacc.  bassoons) 

slowness  of  pace.  Not  unlike  the  hymn  of  the  first 
prologue  in  line  of  tune,  it  bears  a  mood  of  dark 
resignation  that  breaks  presently  into  the  touching 
plea  of  the  wistful  cadence. 

The  whole  is  a  reflective  prologue  to  the  Finale: 

a  deep  meditation  from  which  the  song  may  roll  forth 

on  new  spring.    The  hymn  has  suddenly  entered  with 

a  subtly  new  guise;  for  the  moment  it  seems  part 

317 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


of  the  poignant  sigh ;  it  is  as  yet  submerged  in  a  flood 
of  gloom  and  regret;  and  the  former  phrases  still 
stride  and  stalk  below.  In  a  wild  climax  of  gloom 
we  hear  the  former  sob,  earlier  companion  of  the 
stalking  figure. 

Hymnal  strains  return, — flashes  of  heavenly  light 
in  the  depths  of  hell,  and  one  passionate  sigh  of  the 
melting  cadence. 

Allegro, — we  are  carried  back  to  the  resolute  vigor 
of  the  earlier  symphony,  lacking  the  full  fiery  charm, 
but  ever  striving  and  stirring,  like  Titans  rearing 
mountain  piles,  not  without  the  cheer  of  toil  itself. 
At  the  height  comes  a  burst  of  the  erst  yearning 
cadence,  but  there  is  a  new  masterful  accent;  the 
wistful  edge  does  not  return  till  the  echoing  phrases 
sink  away  in  the  depths. 

A  new  melody  starts  soaring  on  the  same  wing  of 

(Strings  and  clarinets) 
^        AUegro        "^  =7  ^^ 


m^2\ii 


3= 


P  cantabile 


ae 


*± 


% 


(Staccato  strings  con  8ve.) 


blended  striving  and  yearning  of  which  all  this  song 
is  fraught.    In  its  broader  sweep  and  brighter  cheer  it 
is  like  the  queenly  melody  of  the  first  movement. 
The  Titan  toil  stirs  strongly  below  the  soft  cadence  ; 
318 


EDWARD  ELGAR 

the  full,  fierce  ardor  mounts  heavenward.  Phases 
now  alternate  of  insistent  rearing  on  the  strenuous 
motive  and  of  fateful  submission  in  the  marching 
strain,  that  is  massed  in  higher  and  bigger  chorus. 
As  gathers  the  stress  of  climax,  the  brass  blowing 
a  defiant  blast,  the  very  vehemence  brings  a  new 
resolution  that  is  uttered  in  the  returning  stren- 
uous phrase. 

Again  rises  the  towering  pile.  At  the  thickest  the 
high  horns  blow  loud  a  slow,  speaking  legend, — the 
farewell  motive,  it  seems,  from  the  end  of  Adagio, 
fierce  energy  struggling  with  fatal  regret  gnawing 
at  the  heart. 

Gripping  is  the  appeal  of  the  sharp  cry  almost  of 
anguish  into  which  the  toiling  energy  is  suddenly 
resolved.  Again  the  fateful  march  enters,  now  in 
heroic  fugue  of  brass  and  opposite  motion  of  strings 
and  reed, — all  overwhelmed  with  wild  recurring  pangs 
of  regret. 

And  so  "  double,  double,  toil  and  trouble,"  on  goes 
the  fugue  and  follows  the  arduous  climb  (into  the  sad 
motto  in  the  horns),  each  relieving  the  other,  till  both 
yield  again  to  the  heart-breaking  cry. 

The  cheerier  melody  here  re-enters  and  raises  the 
mood  for  the  nonce.  Soon  it  falls  amid  dim  harmon- 
ies. Far  in  the  depths  now  growls  the  dull  tread,  an- 
swered by  perverted  line  of  the  hymn. 

A  mystic  verse  sounds  over  pious  chords  of  harp  in 
the  tune  of  the  march,  which  is  sung  by  antiphonal 
choirs  of  strings, — later  with  fuller  celestial  chorus, 
319 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

almost  in  rapture  of  heavenly  resignation.  Only  it 
is  not  final;  for  once  again  returns  the  full  struggle 
of  the  beginning,  with  the  farewell-legend,  and  in 
highest  passion  the  phrase  of  regret  rung  again  and 
again — till  it  is  soothed  by  the  tranquil  melody.  The 
relentless  stride  of  march  too  reaches  a  new  height, 
and  one  last,  moving  plaint.  When  the  fast  chasing 
cries  are  in  closest  tangle,  suddenly  the  hymn  pours 
out  its  benediction,  while  the  cries  have  changed  to 
angelic  acclaim.  Here  is  the  transfigured  song)  in 
full  climactic  verse  that  fulfils  the  promise  of  the 
beginning.  A  touch  of  human  (or  earthly  joy)  is 
added  in  an  exultant  strain  of  the  sweeping  melody 
that  unites  with  the  hymn  at  the  close. 


320 


WHEN  we  come  to  a  view  of  modern  music  in 
symphonic  design,  written  in  America,  we 
are  puzzled  by  a  new  phase  of  the  element  of  national- 
ism. For  here  are  schools  and  styles  as  different 
as  of  far  corners  of  Europe.  Yet  they  can  be  called 
nothing  else  than  American,  if  they  must  have  a 
national  name.  In  the  northern  centre  whence  a 
model  orchestra  has  long  shed  a  beneficent  influence 
far  afield,  the  touch  of  new  French  conceits  has 
colored  some  of  the  ablest  works.  Elsewhere  we  have 
cited  a  symphony  more  in  line  with  classical 
tradition.* 

Perhaps  most  typical  is  a  symphony  of  Hadley 
where  one  feels,  with  other  modern  tradition,  the 
mantle  of  the  lamented  MacDowell,  of  whom  it  may 
be  said  that  he  was  first  to  find  in  higher  reaches 
of  the  musical  art  an  utterance  of  a  purely  national 
temper. 

HENRY  HADLEY.  SYMPHONY  NO.  3,  B.  MINOR.^ 

With  virile  swing  the  majestic  melody  strides  in 
the  strings,  attended  by  trooping  chords  of  wood 
and  brass,  all  in  the  minor,  in  triple  rhythm.  In 

*  A  symphony  by  Wm.  W.  Gilchrist.    Vol.  II,  Appendix. 
fOpus  60,  Henry  Hadley,  American,  born  1871. 
21  321 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


Moderate  e  maestoso 
(Harp  and  wind) 


(All  the  trebles) 
**'  ConSve. 


(Strings  with 
lower  8ve.)jf 


the  bass  is  a  frequent  retort  to  the  themal  phrase. 
For  a  moment  a  dulcet  line  steals  in,  quickly  broken 
by  the  returning  martial  stride  of  stentorian  horns, 
and  of  the  main  theme  in  full  chords.  Strange, 
though,  how  a  softer,  romantic  humor  is  soon  spread 
over  the  very  discussion  of  the  martial  theme,  so  that 
it  seems  the  rough,  vigorous  march  is  but  the  shell 
for  the  kernel  of  tender  romarce, — the  pageant  that 
precedes  the  queenly  figure.  And  presently,  piu 
tranquillo,  comes  the  fervent  lyric  song  that  may 
indeed  be  the  chief  theme  in  poetic  import,  if  not 
in  outer  rank.  After  a  moving  verse  in  the  strings, 

Piu  tranquillo  espress. 

(Strings) 


(Pizz.  basses 8va.)    ** 


(Added  woodwind) 


322 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

with  an  expressive  strain  in  some  voice  of  the  wood- 
wind or  a  ripple  of  the  harp,  it  is  sung  in  tense  chorus 
of  lower  wood  and  horns, — soon  joined  by  all  the 
voices  but  the  martial  brass,  ending  with  a  soft  echo 
of  the  strings. 

Now  in  full  majesty  the  stern  stride  of  first. theme 
is  resumed,  in  faster  insistence, — no  longer  the  mere 
tune,  but  a  spirited  extension  and  discussion,  with 
retorts  between  the  various  choirs.  Here  the  melo- 
dious march  is  suddenly  felt  in  the  bass  (beneath 
our  feet,  as  it  were)  of  lowest  brass  and  strings, 
while  the  noisy  bustle  continues  above ;  then,  changing 
places,  the  theme  is  above,  the  active  motion  below. 

Long  continues  the  spirited  clatter  as  of  war-like 
march  till  again  returns  the  melting  mood  of  the 
companion  melody,  now  sung  by  the  expressive  horn, 
with  murmuring  strings.  And  there  are  enchanting 
flashes  of  tonal  light  as  the  song  passes  to  higher 
choirs.  The  lyric  theme  wings  its  rapturous  course 
to  a  blissful  height,  where  an  intrusion  of  the  main 
motive  but  halts  for  the  moment  the  returning  tender 
verse. 

When  the  first  vigorous  phrase  returns  in  full 
career,  there  is  somehow  a  greater  warmth,  and  the 
dulcet  after-strain  is  transfigured  in  a  glow  greater 
almost  than  of  the  lyric  song  that  now  follows  with 
no  less  response  of  beauty.  In  the  final  spirited  blend- 
ing of  both  melodies  the  trumpets  sound  a  quicker 
pace  of  the  main  motive. 

In  the  Andante  (tranquillo)  the  sweet  tinkle  of 
323 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


church-bells  with  soft  chanting  horns  quickly  de- 
fines the  scene.     Two  voices  of  the  strings,  to  the 

(Bells  and  harp  in  continuous  repetition) 
Andante  tranquillo 

•f-fTff. 


1^       „     JP-  '  t5^     _    -*-  ' 

(Strings,  with  added  choir  of  lower  reeds) 

continuing  hum  of  the  bells,  are  singing  a  respon- 
sive song  that  rises  in  fervor  as  the  horns  and  later 
the  woodwind  join  the  strings.  Anon  will  sound 
the  simple  tune  of  the  bells  with  soft  harmonies,  like 
echoes  of  the  song, — or  even  the  chant  without  the 
chimes. 

In  more  eager  motion, — out  of  the  normal  measure 
of  bells  and  hymn,  breaks  a  new  song  in  minor  with 
a  touch  of  passion,  rising  to  a  burst  of  ardor.  But  it 
passes,  sinking  away  before  a  new  phase, — a  bucolic 


Poco  piu  mosao 
(Oboe) 


r*&ni 


•s 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

fantasy  of  trilling  shepherd's  reed  (in  changed,  even 
pace),  supported  by  strumming  strings.  The  sacred 
calm  and  later  passion  have  yielded  to  a  dolorous 
plaint,  like  the  dirge  of  the  Magyar  plains.  Sud- 
denly the  former  fervor  returns  with  strains  of  the 
second  melody  amidst  urging  motion  (in  the  triple 
pace)  and  startling  rushes  of  harp-strings.  At  the 
height,  trumpets  blare  forth  the  first  melody,  trans- 
formed from  its  earlier  softness,  while  the  second 
presses  on  in  higher  wood  and  strings ;  the  trombones 
relieve  the  trumpets,  with  a  still  larger  chorus  in  the 
romantic  song ;  in  final  exaltation,  the  basses  of  brass 
and  strings  sound  the  first  melody,  while  the  second 
still  courses  in  treble  voices. 

Of  a  sudden,  after  a  lull,  falls  again  the  tinkle 
of  sacred  chimes,  with  a  verse  each  of  the  two  main 
melodies. 

The  Scherzo  begins  with  a  Saltarello  humor,  as  of 
airy  faun,  with  a  skipping  theme  ever  accompanied 
by  a  lower  running  phrase  and  a  prancing  trip  of 

Allegro  con  leggerezza,  ben  aostenuto 
(Cl.) 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

strings,  with  a  refrain,  too,  of  chirruping  woodwind. 
Later  the  skipping  phrase  gains  a  melodic  cadence. 
But  the  main  mood  is  a  revel  of  gambols  and  pranks 
of  rhythm  and  harmony  on  the  first  phase. 

In  the  middle  is  a  sudden  shift  of  major  tone  and 
intimate  humor,  to  a  slower  pace.  With  still  a 
semblance  of  dance,  a  pensive  melody  sings  in  the 

cellos;  the  graceful  cadence  is  rehearsed  in  a  choir 
Poco  meno  mosso 
(Strings) 


of  woodwind,  and  the  song  is  taken  up  by  the  whole 
chorus.  As  a  pretty  counter-tune  grows  above,  the 
melody  sings  below,  with  a  blending  of  lyric  feeling 
and  the  charm  of  dance.  At  a  climactic  height  the 
horns,  with  clumsy  grace,  blare  forth  the  main  lilting 
phrase. 

The  song  now  wings  along  with  quicker  tripping 
counter-tunes  that  slowly  lure  the  first  skipping  tune 
back  into  the  play  after  a  prelude  of  high  festivity. 
New  pranks  appear, — as  of  dancing  strings  against 
a  stride  of  loud,  muted  horns.  Then  the  second 
(pensive)  melody  returns,  now  above  the  running 
counter-tune.  At  last,  in  faster  gait,  to  the  coursing 
of  quicker  figures,  the  (second)  melody  rings  out  in 
326 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

choir  of  brass  in  twice  slower,  stately  pace.  But 
the  accompanying  bustle  is  merely  heightened  until 
all  four  horns  are  striking  together  the  lyric  song.  At 
the  end  is  a  final  revel  of  the  first  dancing  tune. 

The  Finale,  which  bears  the  unusual  mark  Allegro 
con  giubilio,  begins  with  a  big  festive  march  that  may 
seem  to  have  an  added  flavor  of  old  English  merry- 
making. But  as  in  the  other  cantos  of  the  poem  there 


Allegro  con  giubilio 
Tulti  >  > 


(Basses  in  8ve.) 


is  here,  too,  an  opposite  figure  and  feeling.  And  the 
more  joyous  the  gaiety,  the  more  sweetly  wistful  is 
the  recoil.  Nay  there  is  in  this  very  expressive  strain, 
beautifully  woven  in  strings,  harp,  woodwind  and 
horns,  a  vein  of  regret  that  grows  rather  than  lessens, 
whenever  the  melody  appears  alone.  It  is  like  the 
memory,  in  the  midst  of  festival,  of  some  blissful 
moment  lost  forever. 

Indeed,  the  next  phase  seems  very  like  a  dis- 
ordered chase  of  stray  memories;  for  here  a  line  of 
martial  air  is  displaced  by  a  pensive  strain  which  in 
327 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


(Cello  and  harp  with  harmony  of  wood,  horns 
and  strings)        ^ 

:  tranquilln 


turn  yields  to  the  quick,  active  tune  that  leads  to  a 
height  of  celebration. 

But  here  is  a  bewildering  figure  on  the  scene: 
Lustily  the  four  horns  (helped  by  the  strings)  blow 
in  slow  notes  against  the  continuing  motive  an  ex- 
pressive melody.  Slowly  it  breaks  upon  our  ears  as 
the  wistful  air  that  followed  the  chimes  of  Sunday 
bells.  It  has  a  stern,  almost  sombre  guise,  until  it 
suddenly  glows  in  transfigured  light,  as  of  a  choir 
of  celestial  brass. 

Slowly  we  are  borne  to  the  less  exalted  pitch  of  the 
first  festive  march,  and  here  follows,  as  at  first,  the 
expressive  melody  where  each  hearer  may  find  his 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

own  shade  of  sadness.  It  does  seem  to  reach  a  true 
passion  of  regret,  with  poignant  sweet  sighs. 

At  length  the  sadness  is  overcome  and  there  is  a 
new  animation  as  separate  voices  enter  in  fugal  man- 
ner in  the  line  of  the  march.  Now  the  festive  tune 
holds  sway  in  lower  pace  in  the  basses ;  but  then  rings 
on  high  in  answer — the  wistful  melody  again  and 
again,  in  doubled  and  twice  redoubled  pace. 

When  we  hear  the  penseroso  melody  once  more  at 
the  end,  we  may  feel  with  the  poet  a  state  of  resigned 
cheer. 

A  remarkable  work  that  shows  the  influence  of 
modern  French  harmony  rather  than  its  actual  traits, 
is  a  SYMPHONY  BY  GUSTAV  STEUBE.*  It  is  difficult 
to  resist  the  sense  of  a  strain  for  bizarre  harmony,  of 
a  touch  of  preciosity.  The  real  business  of  these  har- 
monies is  for  incidental  pranks,  with  an  after-touch 
that  confesses  the  jest,  or  softens  it  to  a  lyric  utter- 
ance. It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  moving  moments 
in  this  work  come  precisely  in  the  release  of  the 
strain  of  dissonance,  as  in  the  returning  melody  of 
the  Adagio.  Only  we  may  feel  we  have  been  waiting 
too  long.  The  desert  was  perhaps  too  long  for  the 
oasis.  Est  modus  in  rebus:  the  poet  seems  niggardly 
with  his  melody;  he  may  weary  us  with  too  long 
waiting,  with  too  little  staying  comfort.  He  does 
not  escape  the  modern  way  of  symbolic,  infinitesimal 

*  Of  Boston, — born   in  Germany  in   1867. 
329 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

melody,  so  small  that  it  must,  of  course,  reappear. 
It  is  a  little  like  the  wonderful  arguments  from 
ciphers  hidden  in  poetry. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  smallness  of  phrase 
does  suggest  a  smallness  of  idea.  The  plan  of  magic 
motive  will  not  hold  ad  infinitesimum.  As  the  turn 
of  the  triplet,  in  the  first  movement,  twists  into  a 
semblance  of  the  Allegro  theme,  we  feel  like  wonder- 
ing with  the  old  Philistine: 

.     .     .     "  How  all  this  difference  can  be 
'Twixt  tweedle-dum  and  tweedle-dee!  " 

But  there  is  the  redeeming  vein  of  lyric  melody 
with  a  bold  fantasy  of  mischievous  humor  and  a 
true  climax  of  a  clear  poetic  design.  One  reason 
seems  sometimes  alone  to  justify  this  new  license, 
this  new  French  revolution:  the  deliverance  from  a 
stupid  slavery  of  rules, — if  we  would  only  get  the 
spirit  of  them  without  the  inadequate  letter.  Better, 
of  course,  the  rules  than  a  fatal  chaos.  But  there  is 
here  in  the  bold  flight  of  these  harmonies,  soaring  as 
though  on  some  hidden  straight  path,  a  truly  Pro- 
methean utterance. 

It  is  significant,  in  the  problem  of  future  music, 
that  of  the  symphonies  based  upon  recent  French 
ideas,  the  most  subtly  conceived  and  designed  should 
have  been  written  in  America. 

7. — In  pale  tint  of  harmony  sways  the  impersonal 
phrase  that  begins  with  a  descending  tone.  We  may 
330 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


Andante  (Melody  in  flute  and  violas) 
(Violins)  \^ 


^  (Cellos  with  oasses 
in  lower  8ve.) 


remember  *  how  first  with  the  symphony  came  a  clear 
sense  of  tonal  residence.  It  was  like  the  age  in 
painting  when  figures  no  longer  hung  in  the  gray  air, 
when  they  were  given  a  resting-place,  with  trees  and 
a  temple. 

Here  we  find  just  the  opposite  flight  from  clear 
tonality,  as  if  painting  took  to  a  Japanese  manner, 
sans  aught  of  locality.  Where  an  easy  half-step  leads 
gently  somewhere,  a  whole  tone  sings  instead.  Noth- 
ing obvious  may  stand. 

It  marks,  in  its  reaction,  the  excessive  stress  of 
tonality  and  of  simple  colors  of  harmony.  The  basic 
sense  of  residence  is  not  abandoned;  there  is  merely 
a  bolder  search  for  new  tints,  a  farther  straying 
from  the  landmarks. 

Soon  our  timid  tune  is  joined  by  a  more  expressive 
line  that  rises  in  ardent  reaches  to  a  sudden  tumult, 
with  a  fiery  strain  of  trumpets  where  we  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  triplet  figure.  After  a  dulcet  lullaby 


»  See  Vol  I,  Chapter  I. 


331 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 
(Flute  with  tremolo  of  high  strings)         


L. 


3=eg 


3E 


f)  espreas. 

(New  melody  in  ob.  and  violas) 


(Cellos  wuaBustajn^nower  B  onJasses) 


^ 


*— M 


— i — i — r       t 

^^d^^^^^j£* 


of  the  first  air,  the  second  flows  in  faster  pace 
(Allegro  commodo)  as  the  real  text,  ever  with  new 
blossoming  variants  that  sing  together  in  a  madrigal 
of  tuneful  voices,  where  the  descending  note  still 
has  a  part  in  a  smooth,  gliding  pace  of  violins. 

In  gayer  mood  comes  a  verse  of  the  inverted 
(Allegro)  tune,  with  other  melodic  guises  hovering 
about.  When  the  theme  descends  to  the  bass,  the 
original  Andante  phrase  sings  in  the  trumpet,  and 
there  is  a  chain  of  entering  voices,  in  growing  agi- 
tation, in  the  main  legend  with  the  quicker  sprites 
332 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


dancing  about.  At  the  height,  after  the  stirring 
song  of  trumpets,  we  feel  a  passionate  strife  of  resolve 
and  regret;  and  immediately  after,  the  descending 
tone  is  echoed  everywhere. 

A  balancing  (second)  theme  now  appears,  in  tran- 

(Horn) 
j      Allegro    dolce  ** 


£2: 


(— H * 

^w-^iw^- 


G 


•it 


-—•      r 


( Sustained  v 

harmony  in  violins.          ^^ 
bassoons  and  flute) 

quil  flow,  but  pressing  on,  at  the  end,  in  steady  ascent 
as  to  Parnassian  summit.  Later  comes  a  new  re- 
joinder in  livelier  mood,  till  it  is  lost  in  a  big, 
moving  verse  of  the  Andante  song.  But  pert  retorts 
from  the  latest  new  tune  again  fill  the  air,  then  yield 
in  attendance  upon  the  returning  Allegro  theme. 
Of  subtle  art  is  the  woof  of  derived  phrases.  A  con- 
panion  melody,  that  seems  fraught  of  the  text  of  the 
second  subject,  sings  with  rising  passion,  while  the 
lower  brass  blow  lustily  in  eccentric  rhythm  of  the 
Allegro  phrase  and  at  the  height  share  in  the  dual 
triumph. 

We  feel  a  kinship  of  mood  rather  than  of  theme, 
333 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

a  coherence  that  we  fear  to  relate  to  definite  figures, 
though  the  descending  symbol  is  clear  against  the 
ascending.  An  idyllic  dialogue,  with  the  continuing 
guise  of  the  Allegro  phrase  turns  to  a  gayer  revel 
in  the  original  pace,  with  a  brilliant  blare  of  trumpets. 

The  free  use  of  themes  is  shown  in  the  opposite 
moods  of  the  triplet  phrase,  of  sadness,  as  in  Andante, 
or  buoyant,  in  Allegro.  Here  are  both  in  close  tran- 
sition as  the  various  verses  return  from  the  begin- 
ning, entwined  about  the  first  strain  cf  the  Andante, 
gliding  through  the  descending  tone  into  the  second 
soothing  song  with  the  Parnassian  ascent. 

A  full  verse  of  the  first  Andante  melody  sings 
at  the  heart  of  the  plot,  followed  by  the  strange 
daemonic  play  that  keeps  the  mood  within  bounds. 
Indeed,  it  returns  once  more  as  at  first,  then  springs 
into  liveliest  trip  and  rises  to  an  Olympian  height, 
with  a  final  revel  of  the  triplet  figure. 

77. — With  a  foreshadowing  drop  of  tone  begins 
the  prelude,  not  unlike  the  first  notes  of  the  sym- 

Adagio,  ma  non  troppo 
mf  (espressivo  Clar. ) 


(Clar'te  and 
bassoons) 


334 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


phony,  answered  with  a  brief  phrase.     On  the  de- 
scending motive  the  main  melody  is  woven. 

Tenderly  they  play  together,  the  melody  with  the 
main  burden,  the  lighter  prelude  phrase  in  graceful 
accompaniment.  But  now  the  latter  sings  in  turn  a 
serious  verse,  rises  to  a  stormy  height,  the  horns 
proclaiming  the  passionate  plea  amid  a  tumultuous 
accord  of  the  other  figures,  and  sinks  in  subdued 
temper.  In  a  broader  pace  begins  a  new  line,  though 
on  the  thread  of  the  descending  motive,  and  with  the 
entering  phrase  of  the  prelude  winds  to  a  climax 
of  passion.  The  true  episode,  of  refuge  and  solace 
from  the  stress  of  tempest,  is  in  a  song  of  the  trum- 
pet through  a  shimmering  gauze  of  strings  with 
glinting  harp,  to  a  soft  murmuring  in  the  reeds. 


(Violins) 
Animando 


PP 
(Trem. 
violins  doubled  above 
in  oboes) 


eg 


(Cellos  with  sustained  lower  B  of  basses) 
Main  melody  in  trumpets 

In  a  new  shade  of  tone  it  is  echoed  by  the  horn, 
then  in  a  fervent  close  it  is  blended  with  a  guise 
of  the  prelude  phrase,  that  now  heralds  the  main 
335 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

melody,  in  a  duet  of  clarinet  and  violins.  At  last 
in  the  home  tone  the  horn  sings  amid  the  sweet 
tracery  the  parting  verse,  and  all  about  sounds  the 
trist  symbol  of  the  first  (descending)  motive. 

///. — The  Scherzo  is  in  one  view  a  mad  revel  of 
demon  pranks  in  a  new  field  of  harmonies.  Inconse- 
quential though  they  may  seem,  there  is  a  real  coher- 
ence, and,  too,  a  subtle  connection  with  the  whole 
design. 

To  be  sure,  with  the  vagueness  of  tune  that  be- 
longs to  a  school  of  harmonic  exploits  a  certain 
mutual  relation  of  themes  is  a  kind  of  incident. 
The  less  defined  the  phrases,  the  easier  it  is  to  make 
them  similar. 

Undoubted  likeness  there  is  between  the  main 
elfin  figure  and  the  first  phrase  of  the  symphony. 

(Oboes,  with  lower  8ve.  and  higher  8ve.  of  piccolo) 
Allegro  vivace 


The  triplet  is  itself  a  kind  of  password  throughout. 
With  this  multiple  similarity  is  a  lack  of  the  inner 
bond  of  outer  contrast. 

336 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

The  mood  of  demon  humor  finds  a  native  medium 
in  the  tricks  of  new  Gallic  harmony.  Early  in 
the  prelude  we  hear  the  descending  tone,  a  streak  of 
sadness  in  the  mirth.  Answering  the  first  burst  is 
a  strange  stroke  of  humor  in  the  horn,  and  as  if  in 


(Tremolo  1st  violins) 


mf  ( 1st  horn) 


(Clarinets  doubled       / 
above  in  strings) 


serious  balance,  a  smooth  gliding  phrase  in  the 
wood.  Now  the  first  figure  grows  more  articulate, 
romping  and  galloping  into  an  ecstasy  of  fun.  A 
certain  spirit  of  Till  Eulenspiegel  hovers  about. 

Out  of  the  maze  blows  a  new  line  in  muted  trum- 
pets, that  begins  with  the  inverted  triplet  figure,  and 
in  spite  of  the  surrounding  bedlam  rises  almost  into 
a  tune.  At  the  height  the  strange  jest  of  the  (horns 
reigns  supreme. 

From  the  mad  gambols  of  the  first  figure  comes  a 
relief  in  sparkling  calls  of  the  brass  and  stirring 
retorts  in  pure  ringing  harmonies.  In  the  next 
episode  is  a  fall  into  a  lyric  mood  as  the  latest  figure 
glides  into  even  pace,  singing  amid  gentlest  pranks. 
22  337 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


'Most  tuneful  of  all  sounds  is  the  answer  in  dulcet 

trumpet  while,  above,  the  first  theme  intrudes  softly. 

The  heart  of  the  idyll  comes  in  a  song  of  the  clari- 


(Cl.  espressivo] 
mf 


(Pizz.  strings 
with  higher  8ve. 
of  upper  voice) 


s 

(Wood  and  horn  and  strings) 


(Clar.  and  bassoons) 


net  against  strange,  murmuring  strings,  ever  with  a 
soft  answer  of  the  lower  reed. 

New  invading  sprites  do  not  hem  the  flight  of 
the  melody.  But  at  the  height  a  redoubled  pace 
turns  the  mood  back  to  revelling  mirth  with  broken 
bits  of  the  horn  tune.  Indeed  the  crisis  comes  with 
a  new  rage  of  this  symbol  of  mad  abandon,  in  de- 
monic strife  with  the  fervent  song  that  finally 
prevails. 

The  first  theme  returns  with  a  new  companion 
in  the  highest  wood.  A  fresh  strain  of  serious  melody 
is  now  woven  about  the  former  dulcet  melody  of 
trumpet  in  a  stretch  of  delicate  poesy,  of  mingled 
mirth  and  tenderness. — The  harmonies  have  some- 
thing of  the  infinitesimal  sounds  that  only  insects 
hear.  With  all  virtuous  recoil,  here  we  must  confess 
is  a  masterpiece  of  cacophonic  art,  a  new  world  of 
338 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


tones  hitherto  unconceived,  tinkling  and  murmuring 
with  the  eerie  charm  of  the  forest. — In  the  return 
of  the  first  prelude  is  a  touch  of  the  descending  tone. 
From  the  final  revelling  tempest  comes  a  sudden 
awakening.  In  strange  moving  harmony  sings  slowly 
the  descending  symbol,  as  if  confessing  the  unsuccess- 
ful flight  from  regret.  Timidly  the  vanquished 
sprites  scurry  away. 

IV. — The  first  notes  of  the  Finale  blend  and  bring 
back  the  main  motives.  First  is  the  descending  tone, 
but  firm  and  resolute,  with  the  following  triplet  in 

Allegro  energico      (Higher  figure  in 

"^  J  .  strings  &  wood) 


ff 


f 

ood, 


(Wood,  horns  and  lower  strings) 


(Strings  and  wood) 


inversion  of  the  Scherzo  theme. 

It  is  all  in  triumphant  spirit.  From  the  start  the 
mood  reigns,  the  art  for  once  is  quite  subordinate. 
Eesonant  and  compelling  is  the  motive  of  horns  and 
trumpets,  new  in  temper,  though  harking  back  to 
the  earlier  text,  in  its  cogent  ending.  Splendid  ia 


(Strings) 


s   s 


^ 


I       r  ""  i  ~&~ 


(Wood& 
1  strings  dou- 
bled oelow) 


(Horns  and  trumpets) 
339 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 


the  soaring  flight  through  flashes  of  new  chords. 
There  is,  we  must  yield,  something  Promethean,  of 
new  and  true  beauty,  in  the  bold  path  of  harmonies 
that  the  French  are  teaching  us  after  a  long  age  of 
slavish  rules. 

The  harking  back  is  here  better  than  in  most 
modern  symphonies  with  their  pedantic  subtleties: 
in  the  resurgence  of  joyous  mood,  symbolized  by  the 
inversion  of  phrase,  as  when  the  prankish  elfin  theme 
rises  in  serious  aspiration. 

Out  of  these  inspiriting  reaches  sings  a  new  melody 
in  canon  of  strings  (though  it  may  relate  to  some 
shadowy  memory) ,  while  in  the  bass  rolls  the  former 
ending  phrase;  then  they  romp  in  jovial  turn  of 
rhythm. 


(Oboes,  doubled  below 
j      in  bassoons) 


(Strings,  doubled  below) 


(Horns) 


(Fizz,  cello  doubled  below) 


A  vague  and  insignificant  similarity  of  themes  is 
a  fault  of  the  work  and  of  the  style,  ever  in  high 
disdain  of  vernacular  harmony,  refreshing  to  be  sure, 
in  its  saucy  audacity,  and  anon  enchanting  with  a 
ring  of  new,  fiery  chord.  As  the  sonorous  theme 
340 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


sings  in  muted  brass,  picking  strings  mockingly 
play  quicker  fragments,  infecting  the  rest  with  frivo- 
lous retorts,  and  then  a  heart-felt  song  pours  forth, 
where  the  accompanying  cries  have  softened  their 
mirth.  Back  they  skip  to  a  joyous  trip  with  at  last 
pure  ringing  harmonies. 

At  the  fervent  pitch  a  blast  of  trumpets  rises  in 
challenging  phrase,  in  incisive  clash  of  chord,  with 
the  early  sense  of  Parnassian  ascent.  At  the  end  of 
this  brave  fanfare  we  hear  a  soft  plea  of  the  de- 
scending tone  that  prompts  a  song  of  true  lyric 
melody,  with  the  continuing  gentlest  touch  of  regret, 
all  to  a  sweetly  bewildering  turn  of  pace.  So  tense 


(Continuing  organ  pt.  of  violins) 

Animando 
v  (Melody  in  ob.  dolce) 


(Fl.  &  clar.  dolce) 


and  subtle  an  expression  would  utterly  convert  us 
to  the  whole  harmonic  plan,  were  it  not  that  just 
here,  in  these  moving  moments,  we  feel  a  return 
to  clearer  tonality.  But  it  is  a  joy  to  testify  to  so 
devoted  a  work  of  art. 

With  the  last  notes  of  melody  a  new  frisking  tune 
341 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

plays  in  sauciest  clashes  of  chord,  with  an  enchanting 
stretch  of  ringing  brass.  A  long  merriment  ensues 
in  the  jovial  trip,  where  the  former  theme  of  horns 
has  a  rising  cadence;  or  the  tripping  tune  sings  in 
united  chorus  and  again  through  its  variants.  After 
a  noisy  height  the  dulcet  melody  (from  the  descend- 
ing tone)  sings  in  linked  sweetness.  In  the  later 
tumult  we  rub  our  eyes  to  see  a  jovial  theme  of  the 
bass  take  on  the  lines  of  the  wistful  melody.  Finally, 
in  majestic  tread  amid  general  joyous  clatter  the 
brass  blow  the  gentle  song  in  mellowed  tones  of 
richest  harmony. 

CHADWICK.*     SUITE  SYMPHONIQUE   (IN  E  FLAT). 

With  a  rush  of  harp  and  higher  strings  the  Suite 
begins  on  ardent  wing  in  exultant  song  of  trumpets 
(with  horns,  bassoons  and  cellos)  to  quick  palpitat- 
ing violins  that  in  its  higher  flight  is  given  over 
to  upper  reeds  and  violas.  It  is  answered  by  grace- 
fully drooping  melody  of  strings  and  harps  topped 
by  the  oboes,  that  lightly  descends  from  the  heights 
with  a  cadence  long  delayed,  like  the  circling  flight 
of  a  great  bird  before  he  alights.  Straightway  begins 
a  more  pensive  turn  of  phrase  (of  clarinet  and  lower 
strings)  in  distant  tonal  scene  where  now  the  former 
(descending)  answer  sings  timidly  in  alternating 
groups.  The  pensive  melody  returns  for  a  greater 
reach,  blending  with  the  original  theme  (in  all  the 
basses)  in  a  glowing  duet  of  two  moods  as  well  as 

"George  W,  Chadwick,  American,  born  in  1854. 
342 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 


melodies,  rising  to  sudden  brilliant  height,  pressing 
on  to  a  full  return  of  the  first  exultant  melody  with 
long,  lingering,  circling  descent. 

The  listener  on  first  hearing  may  be  warned  to 
have  a  sharp  ear  for  all  kinds  of  disguises  of  the 
stirring  theme  and  in  a  less  degree,  of  the  second 
subject.  What  seems  a  new  air  in  a  tranquil  spot, 
with  strum  of  harp,  —  and  new  it  is  as  expression,  — 
is  our  main  melody  in  a  kind  of  inversion.  And  so 
a  new  tissue  of  song  continues,  all  of  the  original 
fibre,  calming  more  and  more  from  the  first  fierce 
glow.  A  tuneful  march-like  strain  now  plays  gently 
in  the  horns  while  the  (inverted)  expressive  air  still 
sounds  above. 


(Oboe  with  8ve.  flute) 


rt— rr.ru 

(Horns)    Calmato  ed  espressivo  assai 


When  all  has  quieted  to  dim  echoing  answers  be- 
tween horn  and  reed,  a  final  strain  bursts  forth  (like 
the  nightingale's  voice  in  the  surrounding  stillness) 
in  full  stress  of  its  plaint.  And  so,  in  most  natural 
course,  grows  and  flows  the  main  balancing  melody 

343 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

that  now  pours  out  its  burden  in  slower,  broader 
pace,  in  joint  choirs  of  wood  and  strings. 

Meno  mosfto  e  largamente 
(Woodwind  above,  strings  below) 


77 

(pizz.  basses) 


va' 


Sva. 


It  is  the  kind  of  lyric  spot  where  the  full  stream  of 
warm  feeling  seems  set  free  after  the  storm  of  the 
first  onset.  In  answer  is  a  timid,  almost  halting 
strain  in  four  parts  of  the  wood,  echoed  in  strings. 
A  new  agitation  now  stirs  the  joint  choirs  (with 
touches  of  brass),  and  anon  comes  a  poignant  line 
344 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

of  the  inverted  (main)  theme.  It  drives  in  rising 
stress  under  the  spurring  summons  of  trumpets  and 
horns  to  a  celebration  of  the  transfigured  second 
melody,  with  triumphant  cadence.  Nor  does  the 
big  impulse  halt  here.  The  trumpets  sound  on  midst 
a  spirited  duet  of  inverted  and  original  motives  until 
the  highest  point  is  reached,  where,  to  quicker  calls  of 
the  brass,  in  broadest  pace  the  main  subject  strikes 
its  inverted  tune  in  the  trebles,  while  the  bass  rolls 
its  majestic  length  in  a  companion  melody;  trom- 
bones, too,  are  blaring  forth  the  call  of  the  second 
theme. 

Brief  interludes  of  lesser  agitation  bring  a  second 
chorus  on  the  reunited  melodies  in  a  new  tonal 
quarter. 

In  mystic  echoing  groups  on  the  former  de- 
scending answer  of  main  theme  the  mood  deepens  in 
darkening  scene.  Here  moves  in  slow  strides  of 
lowest  brass  a  shadowy  line  of  the  second  melody 
answered  by  a  poignant  phrase  of  the  first.  Striking 
again  and  again  in  higher  perches  the  dual  song 
reaches  a  climax  of  feeling  in  overpowering  burst  of 
fullest  brass.  In  masterful  stride,  still  with  a  burden 
of  sadness,  it  has  a  solacing  tinge  as  it  ends  in  a 
chord  with  pulsing  harp,  that  twice  repeated  leads 
back  to  the  stirring  first  song  of  main  theme. 

Thence  the  whole  course  is  clear  in  the  rehearsal 

of  former  melodies.     Only  the  pensive  air  has  lost 

its  melancholy.     Here  is  again  the  lyric  of  warm- 

hued  horns  with  plaintive  higher  phrase,  and  the  full 

345 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

romance  of  second  melody  with  its  timid  answer, 
where  the  nervous  trip  rouses  slowly  the  final  exulta- 
tion. Yet  there  is  one  more  descent  into  the  depths 
where  the  main  melody  browses  in  dim  searching. 
Slowly  it  wings  its  flight  upwards  until  it  is  greeted 
by  a  bright  burst  of  the  second  melody  in  a  chorus 
of  united  brass.  And  this  is  but  a  prelude  to  the 
last  joint  song,  with  the  inverted  theme  above.  A 
fanfare  of  trumpets  on  the  second  motive  ends  the 
movement. 

The  Romanze  is  pure  song  in  three  verses  where 
we  cannot  avoid  a  touch  of  Scottish,  with  the  little 
acclaiming  phrases.  The  theme  is  given  to  the  saxo- 
phone (or  cello)  with  obligate  of  clarinet  and 
violas;  the  bass  is  in  bassoons  and  pizzicato  of  lower 
strings.  One  feels  a  special  gratitude  to  the  com- 
poser who  will  write  in  these  days  a  clear,  simple, 
original  and  beautiful  melody. 

The  first  interlude  is  a  fantasy,  almost  a  variant 
on  the  theme  in  a  minor  melody  of  the  wood,  with  a 
twittering  phrase  of  violins.  Later  the  strings  take 
up  the  theme  in  pure  cantilena  in  a  turn  to  the 
major, — all  in  expressive  song  that  rises  to  a  fervent 
height.  Though  it  grows  out  of  the  main  theme, 
yet  the  change  is  clear  in  a  return  to  the  subject, 
now  in  true  variation,  where  the  saxophone  has  the 
longer  notes  and  the  clarinet  and  oboe  sing  in 
concert. 

There  follows  a  pure  interlude,  vague  in  motive, 
full  of  dainty  touches.  The  oboe  has  a  kind  of  arioso 
346 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

phrase  with  trilling  of  flutes  and  clarinets,  answered 
in  trumpets  and  harp. 

Later  the  first  violins  (on  the  G  string)  sing  the 
main  air  with  the  saxophone. 

A  double  character  has  the  third  movement  as  the 
title  shows,  though  in  a  broadest  sense  it  could  all 
be  taken  as  a  Humoreske. 

With  a  jaunty  lilt  of  skipping  strings  the  lower 
reeds  strike  the  capricious  tune,  where  the  full  chorus 
soon  falls  in.  The  answering  melody,  with  more  of 
sentiment,  though  always  in  graceful  swing  with 
tricksy  attendant  figures,  has  a  longer  song.  Not 
least  charm  has  the  concluding  tune  that  leads  back 
to  the  whole  melodious  series.  Throughout  are 
certain  chirping  notes  that  form  the  external  con- 
nection with  the  Humoreske  that  begins  with  strid- 
ent theme  (molto  robusto]  of  low  strings,  the  whole 
chorus,  xylophon  and  all,  clattering  about,  the  high 
wood  echoing  like  a  band  of  giant  crickets, — all  in 
whimsical,  varying  pace.  The  humor  grows  more 
graceful  when  the  first  melody  of  the  Intermezzo  is 
lightly  touched.  The  strange  figure  returns  (in 
roughest  strings  and  clarinet)  somewhat  in  ancient 
manner  of  imitation.  Later  the  chirruping  answer 
recurs.  Diminishing  trills  are  echoed  between  the 
groups. 

Slowly  the  scene  grows  stranger.  Suddenly  in  eerie 

harmonies  of  newest  French  or  oldest  Tartar,  here 

are  the  tricks  and  traits  where  meet  the  extremes 

of  latest  Romantic  and  primeval  barbarian.    In  this 

347 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

motley  cloak  sounds  the  typical  Yankee  tune,  first 
piping  in  piccolo,  then  grunting  in  tuba.  Here  is 
Uncle  Sam  disporting  himself  merrily  in  foreign 
garb  and  scene,  quite  as  if  at  home.  If  we  wished, 
we  might  see  a  political  satire  as  well  as  musical. 

After  a  climax  of  the  clownish  mood  we  return  to 
the  Intermezzo  melodies. 

The  Finale  begins  in  the  buoyant  spirit  of  the  be- 
ginning and  seems  again  to  have  a  touch  of  Scotch  in 
the  jaunty  answer.  The  whole  subject  is  a  group  of 
phrases  rather  than  a  single  melody. 

Preluding  runs  lead  to  the  simple  descending  line 
of  treble  with  opposite  of  basses,  answered  by  the 
jovial  phrase.  In  the  farther  course  the  first  theme 
prevails,  answered  with  an  ascending  brief  motive 
of  long  notes  in  irregular  ascent.  Here  follows  a 
freer  flow  of  the  jolly  lilting  tune,  blending  with  the 
sterner  descending  lines. 

Balancing  this  group  is  an  expressive  melody  of 
different  sentiment.  In  its  answer  we  have  again 
the  weird  touch  of  neo-barbarism  in  a  strain  of  the 
reed,  with  dancing  overtones  of  violins  and  harp,  and 
strumming  chords  on  lower  strings.  Or  is  there  a 
hint  of  ancient  Highland  in  the  drone  of  alternating 
horns  and  bassoons? 

Its  brief  verse  is  answered  by  a  fervent  conclusive 
line  where  soon  the  old  lilting  refrain  appears  with 
new  tricks  and  a  big  celebration  of  its  own  and  then 
of  the  whole  madrigal  of  martial  melody.  It  sim- 
mers down  with  whims  and  turns  of  the  skipping 
348 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

phrase   into  the  quiet  (tranquillo)    episode  in  the 
midst  of  the  other  stress. 


(With  lower  8ve.) 
TranquUlo 


(Withpt'zz.  quarter  notes  in  basses  and  strings) 


The  heart  of  the  song  is  in  the  horns,  with  an 
upper-  air  in  the  wood,  while  low  strings  guard  a 
gentle  rhythm.  A  brief  strain  in  the  wind  in  ardent 
temper  is  followed  by  another  in  the  strings,  and 
still  a  third  in  joint  strings  and  wood.  (Again  we 
must  rejoice  in  the  achievement  of  true,  simple, 
sincere  melody.)  The  final  glowing  height  is  reached 
in  all  the  choirs  together, — final  that  is  before  the 
349 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

brass  is  added  with  a  broader  pace,  that  leads  to  the 
moving  climax.  As  the  horns  had  preluding  chords 
to  the  whole  song,  so  a  single  horn  sings  a  kind  of 
epilogue  amid  harmony  of  strings  and  other  horns. 
Slowly  a  more  vigorous  pulse  is  stirred,  in  an  inter- 
lude of  retorting  trumpets. 

Suddenly  in  the  full  energy  of  the  beginning  the 
whole  main  subject  sounds  again,  with  the  jolly  lilt 
dancing  through  all  its  measures,  which  are  none 
too  many.  The  foil  of  gentle  melody  returns  with 
its  answer  of  eerie  tune  and  harmonies.  It  seems 
as  if  the  poet,  after  his  rude  jest,  wanted,  half  in 
amends,  half  on  pure  impulse,  to  utter  a  strain  of 
true  fancy  in  the  strange  new  idiom. 

A  new,  grateful  sound  has  again  the  big  conclusive 
phrase  that  merges  into  more  pranks  of  the  jaunty 
tune  in  the  biggest  revel  of  all,  so  that  we  suspect 
the  jolly  jester  is  the  real  hero  and  the  majestic 
figures  are,  after  all,  mere  background.  And  yet 
here  follows  the  most  tenderly  moving  verse,  all 
unexpected,  of  the  quiet  episode. 

The  end  is  a  pure  romp,  molto  vivace,  mainly 
on  the  skipping  phrase.  To  be  sure  the  stately 
figures  after  a  festive  height  march  in  big,  length- 
ened pace;  but  so  does  the  jolly  tune,  as  though  in 
mockery.  He  breaks  into  his  old  rattling  pace  (in 
the  Glockenspiel)  when  all  the  figures  appear  to- 
gether,— the  big  ones  changing  places  just  before  the 
end,  where  the  main  theme  has  the  last  say,  now  in 
the  bass,  amidst  the  final  festivities. 
350 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

LOEFFLER*     LA  VILLANELLE  DU  DIABLE 
(The  Devil's  Round) 

(After  a  poem  by  M.  Rollinat.  Symphonic  poem  for  Orchestra  and  Organ) 

Few  pieces  of  program  music  are  so  closely  as- 
sociated with  the  subject  as  this  tone  picture  of  the 
Devil's  Eound.  The  translation  of  M.  Rollinat's 
"  Villanelle,"  printed  in  the  score  is  as  follows :  f 

Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning.  Chuckling  in  clear 
staccato,  the  Devil  prowling,  runs  about. 

He  watches,  advances,  retreats  like  zig-zag  lightning; 
Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

In  dive  and  cell,  underground  and  in  the  air,  the  Devil, 
prowling,  runs  about. 

Now  he  is  flower,  dragon-fly,  woman,  black-cat,  green 
snake;  Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

*  Charles  Martin  Loeffler,  born  in  Alsace  in  1861. 

f  A  few  translated  verses  may  give  an  idea  of  the  original 
rhythm : 

Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

Cackling  in  his  impish  play, 

Here  and  there  the  Devil's  turning, 

Forward  here  and  back  again, 
Zig-zag  as  the  lightning's  ray, 
While  the  fires  burn  amain. 

In  the  church  and  in  the  cell 
In  the  caves,  in  open  day, 
Ever  prowls  the  fiend  of  hell. 

But  in  the  original  the  first  and  last  lines  of  the  first 
verse  are  used  as  refrains  in  the  succeeding  verses,  recur- 
ring alternately  as  the  last  line.  In  the  final  verse  they 
are  united. — The  prose  translation  is  by  Philip  Hale. 

351 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

And  now,  with  pointed  moustache,  scented  with  vetiver, 
the  Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

Wherever  mankind  swarms,  without  rest,  summer  and 
winter,  Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

From  alcove  to  hall,  and  on  the  railways,  the  Devil, 
prowling,  runs  about. 

He  is  Mr.  Seen-at-Night,  who  saunters  with  staring 
eyes.  Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

There  floating  as  a  bubble,  here  squirming  as  a  worm, 
the  Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

He's  grand  seigneur,  tough,  student,  teacher.  Hell's 
a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

He  inoculates  each  soul  with  his  bitter  whispering:  the 
Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

He  promises,  bargains,  stipulates  in  gentle  or  proud 
tones.  Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

Mocking  pitilessly  the  unfortunate  whom  he  destroys, 
the  Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

He  makes  goodness  ridiculous  and  the  old  man  futile. 
Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

At  the  home  of  the  priest  or  sceptic,  whose  soul  or  body 
he  wishes,  the  Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

Beware  of  him  to  whom  he  toadies,  and  whom  he  calls 
"  my  dear  sir."  Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning. 

Friend  of  the  tarantula,  darkness,  the  odd  number,  the 
Devil,  prowling,  runs  about. 

— My  clock  strikes  midnight.  If  I  should  go  to  see 
Lucifer? — Hell's  a-burning,  burning,  burning;  the  Devil, 
prowling,  runs  about. 

In  the  maze  of  this  modern  setting  of  demon  antics 
(.not  unlike,  in  conceit,  the  capers  of  Till  Eulen- 
spiegel),  with  an  eloquent  use  of  new  French  strokes 
of  harmony,  one  must  be  eager  to  seize  upon  definite 
figures.  In  the  beginning  is  a  brief  wandering  or 
352 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

flickering  motive  in  furious  pace  of  harp  and  strings, 
ending  ever  in  a  shriek  of  the  high  wood.    Answering 

(Woodwind) 

Sva. . 


(Strings  with  rhythmic 
chords  in  the  tonic) 


(With  opposite 
descending  chords) 


is  a  descending  phrase  mainly  in  the  brass,  that  ends 
in  a  rapid  jingle. 


(Brass  with  quicker  figures 
in  strings  and  wood) 

There  are  various  lesser  motives,  such  as  a  minor 
scale  of  ascending  thirds,  and  a  group  of  cross- 
ing figures  that  seem  a  guise  of  the  first  motive. 
To  be  sure  the  picture  lies  less  in  the  separate 
figures  than  in  the  mingled  color  and  bustle.  Special 
in  its  humor  is  a  soft  gliding  or  creeping  phrase  of 
three  voices  against  a  constant  trip  of  cellos. 

After  a  climax  of  the  first  motive  a  frolicking 
theme  begins  (in  English  horn  and  violas).  If 
we  were  forced  to  guess,  we  could  see  here  the  dandy 
23  353 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

devil,  with  pointed  mustachios,  frisking  about.  It  is 
probably  another  guise  of  the  second  motive  which 
presently  appears  in  the  bass.  A  little  later,  dolce 
amdbile  in  a  madrigal  of  wood  and  strings,  we  may 
see  the  gentlemanly  devil,  the  gallant.  With  a  crash 
of  chord  and  a  role  of  cymbals  re-enters  the  first 
motive,  to  nickering  harmonies  of  violins,  harp  and 
flutes,  taken  up  by  succeeding  voices,  all  in  the 
whole-tone  scale.  Hurrying  to  a  clamorous  height, 
the  pace  glides  into  a  Movimento  di  Valzer,  in 
massed  volume,  with  the  frolicking  figure  in  festive 
array. 

To  softest  tapping  of  lowest  strings  and  drums,  a 
shadow  of  the  second  figure  passes  here  and  there, 
with  a  flash  of  harp.  Soon,  in  returning  merriment, 
it  is  coursing  in  unison  strings  (against  an  opposite 
motion  in  the  wood). 

At  the  height  of  revel,  as  the  strings  are  holding 
a  trembling  chord,  a  sprightly  Gallic  tune  of  the 
street  pipes  in  the  reed,  with  intermittent  flash  of 
the  harp,  and,  to  be  sure,  an  unfamiliar  tang  of  har- 
monies and  strange  perversions  of  the  tune.*  In 

*  "  A  la  villette,"  a  popular  song  of  the  Boulevard.  Mr. 
Philip  Hale,  who  may  have  been  specially  inspired,  asso- 
ciates the  song  with  the  word  "  crapule,"  "  tough,"  as  he 
connects  the  following  revolutionary  songs,  in  contrapuntal 
use,  with  the  word  "  magister,"  "  teacher," — the  idea  of 
the  pedagogue  in  music.  It  may  be  less  remote  to  find  in 
these  popular  airs  merely  symbols  or  graphic  touches  of  the 
swarming  groups  among  which  the  Devil  plies  his  trade. 
354 


SYMPHONIES  IN  AMERICA 

the  midst  is  the  original  flickering  figure.  As  the 
whole  chorus  is  singing  the  tune  at  the  loudest,  the 
brass  breaks  into  another  traditional  air  of  the 
Kevolutionary  Song  of  1789.*  While  the  trip  is  still 
ringing  in  the  strings,  a  lusty  chorus  breaks  into  the 
song  f  "  La  Carmagnole,"  against  a  blast  of  the  horns 
in  a  guise  of  the  first  motive. 

Grim  guises  of  the  main  figures  (in  inverted  pro- 
file) are  skulking  about  to  uncanny  harmonies.  A 
revel  of  new  pranks  dies  down  to  chords  of  muted 
horns,  amid  flashing  runs  of  the  harp,  with  a  long 
roll  of  drums.  Here  Grave  in  solemn  pace,  violas 
and  bassoon  strike  an  ecclesiastical  incantation,  an- 
swered by  the  organ.  Presently  a  Gregorian  plain 
chant  begins  solemnly  in  the  strings  aided  by  the 
organ  while  a  guise  of  the  second  profane  motive 
intrudes.  Suddenly  in  quick  pace  against  a  fugal 
tread  of  lower  voices,  a  light  skipping  figure  dances 
in  the  high  wood.  And  now  loud  trnmpets  are 
saucily  blowing  the  chant  to  the  quick  step,  echoed 
by  the  wood.  And  we  catch  the  wicked  song  of  the 

*  The  famous  "  Ca  ira." 

f  In  the  wealth  of  interesting  detail  furnished  by  Mr. 
Hale  is  the  following :  "  The  Carmagnole  was  first  danced 
in  Paris  about  the  liberty-tree,  and  there  was  then  no 
bloody  suggestion.  .  .  .  The  word  '  Carmagnole '  is 
found  in  English  and  Scottish  literature  as  a  nickname  for 
a  soldier  in  the  French  Revolutionary  army,  and  the  term 
was  applied  by  Burns  to  the  Devil  as  the  author  of  ruin, 
'that  curst  carmagnole,  auld  Satan.'" 
355 


SYMPHONIES  AND  THEIR  MEANING 

street  (in  the  English  horn)  against  a  legend  of 
hell  in  lower  voices.* 

In  still  livelier  pace  the  reeds  sound  the  street 
song  against  a  trip  of  strings,  luring  the  other  voices 
into  a  furious  chorus.  All  at  once,  the  harp  and 
violins  strike  the  midnight  hour  to  a  chord  of  horns, 
while  a  single  impish  figure  dances  here  or  there. 
To  trembling  strings  and  flashing  harp  the  high  reed 
pipes  again  the  song  of  the  Boulevard,  echoed  by 
low  bassoons. 

In  rapidest  swing  the  original  main  motives  now 
sing  a  joint  verse  in  a  kind  of  reprise,  with  the  wild 
shriek  at  the  end  of  the  line,  to  a  final  crashing 
height.  The  end  comes  with  dashes  of  the  harp, 
betwixt  pausing  chords  in  the  high  wood,  with  a 
final  stifled  note. 

*  The  religious  phrases  are  naturally  related  to  the 
"priest  or  sceptic."  In  the  rapid,  skipping  rhythm,  Mr. 
Hale  finds  the  tarentella  suggested  by  the  "  friend  of  the 
tarantula." 


356 


INDEX 

African  music  (See  Negro) 

America,  music  in,  14,  321  et  seq.,  330 

American  folk-song,  197  et  seq.;  symphonies,  321-356 

"  Antar  "  symphony,  by  Rimsky-Korsakow,  155-159 

"  Apprenti,  Sorcier,  Le  "   ( See  Dukas ;  see  Goethe ) 

Arabian  fairy  lore,  155,  156,  159-163;  melody,  158,  161 

Art,  4;  in  Europe  during  19th  century,  11,  et  seq. 

Bach,  2,  8,  13,  59,  75,  92,  93,  165,  191,  208,  217,  260,  265 

Balakirew,  144,  146;   Symphony  in  C,  146-155 

"  Battle  of  the  Huns,"  by  Liszt,  53-58 

Beethoven,  11,  59,  76,  90,  93,  209,  217,  260,  263 

Berlioz,  9,  10,  15-18,  125,  262,  288 

Bohemian  music,    143,    189-190,    190   et  seq.;   symphonies, 

189-207 

Boito's  "  Mefistofele,"  37 
Bossi,  300 

Brahms,  10,  13,  14,  77,  143,  217,  282 
Bruckner,   14,   143,  208-211;    Fourth  Symphony,   211-214; 

Fifth  Symphony,  214,  215-218;  Ninth  Symphony,  216, 

218-229,  243,  260 
Byron's    "  Mazeppa,"    39,    45;    "Manfred,"    125    et    seq.; 

"  Tasso,"  45 
Burns,  355 

Cacophony,  262,  263,  289,  290,  338,  339 

Calais,  H.,  61 

Chadwick,  Suite  symphonique,  342-350 

Chamisseau,  13 

Chausson,  4 

Chopin,  265 

357 


INDEX 

Church  music,  37,  38,  54,  57,  199,  356 

Classic  music,  7  ct  seq.,  12 

Counterpoint  (See  Polyphony),  172,  244,  263 

"  Creation,"  by  Haydn,  209 

Criticism,  1,  2,  3,  209 

"  Danse  Macabre,"  by  Saint- Satins,  60  et  seq. 

"  Dante,"  See  Divina  Commedia 

"Dante,"  symphony  of  Liszt,  12,  132    (See  28  et  aeq.) 

"Death  and  Transfiguration,"  by  Strauss,  44,  263  et  seq.; 

poem  by  Ritter,  271-273 
Dfebussy,  91  et  seq.;  "  The  Sea,"  97  et  seq.;  harmony,  95-97; 

and  Wagner,  96,  97 

Descriptive  music   (See  Program  Music) 
D'Indy,  Second  Symphony,  82  et  seq.,  244 
"Divina  Commedia"  of  Dante,  28  et  seq.;  symphony  of 

Liszt,  28  et  seq. 

Domestic  Symphony  of  Strauss,  288-298 
"  Don  Giovanni,"  by  Mozart,  209 
"Don  Juan,"  by  Strauss,  273-278;   poem  by  Lenau,  273- 

274 

Dukas,  4;  "The  Sorcerer's  Apprentice,"  106-113 
Dvorak,  44,  190,  191;  "New  World"  symphony,  195-207 

Elgar,  symphony  in  A-flat,  308-320 
English  symphony,  An,  308-320 
"  Eulenspiegel  "   ( See  "  Till  " ) 

"Faust,"  tragedy  by  Goethe,  13,  129;  symphony  of  Liszt, 

12,  16,  44,  126,  132   (See  Vol.  II) 
F6tis,  95 

Finnish  music,  114,  143;  symphony,  A,  178-188 
"  Flying  Dutchman,"  by  Wagner,  94 
Folk-song   (See  national  element),  A,  190  et  seq,,  195  et 

seq.,  207 
Foote,  4 
Form,  282 

858 


INDEX 

Foster,  Stephen,  198 

Franck,  72  et  seq.;  symphony  in  D  minor,  75  et  seq. 

Francke,  Kuno,  231 

French,  modern  school,  8,  9,  95  et  seq,  253,  321,  330,  337, 

340,  347 
Frenssen,  13 
Freytag,  13 
Fux,  95 

Gade,  4  (See  Vol.  II) 

Gelder,  Martinus  van,  4 

German  art,  modern,  12-14,  217-218;   music,  modern,   14, 

143,  230 

Gilchrist,  321   (See  Vol.  II) 
Glazounow,  3 
Gluck,  94 
Goethe,   2,   11,   13,  45;    "The  Sorcerer's  Apprentice,"    106 

et  seq.,  231 

Graphic  music  (See  Program  music) 
Grieg,  72 

Hadley,  Symphony  No.  3,  321-329 

Hale,  Philip,  231,  354,  355,  356 

Harmony,    73,   95    et   seq.,   262,    338-339    (See   Scale;    see 

French  modern  school) 

"  Heldenleben,"  by  Strauss,  44  (See  Vol.  II) 
"  Heldenlied,"  by  DvOrak,  44 
Heine,  13 
"Hercules,  The  Youth  of,"  by  Saint-Sa6ns,  65  et  seq.  (See 

"Omphale") 
Hoffmansthal,  13 
Hucbald,  91 

Hugo,  Victor,  39 ;  "  Mazeppa  "  poem,  50  et  seq. 
Hungarian  music,  46,  47,  48,  52,  189,  198 
"  Huns,  Battle  of  the,"  53  et  seq. 
359 


INDEX 

"  Ideals,"  by  Liszt,  39 

Immermann,  13 

Innovators  in  art,  15  et  seq.,  91  et  seq. 

Indy,  IX  (See  D'Indy) 

Italian  music,  299,  300;   symphonies,  299  et  seq. 

"  Jeanne  d'Arc,"  by  Moskowski,  3 
"  Juan,  Don  "  ( See  "  Don  ") 

Kallinikow,  3 
Kaulbach,  53 
Keller,  Gottfried,  13 
Kleist,  230 

Korsakow  (See  Rimsky) 
Kretschmar,  48 

Lamartine,  "  Meditations  poStiques,"  41 

Lenau,  273,  274 

Lessing,  261 

Liszt,  9,  10,  11,  12,  15-18,  60,  75,  114,  126,  132,  215,  262, 

264;    symphony  to  Dante's  "  Divina  Commedia,"  28- 

38;  symphonic  poems,  39-58 

Loeffler,  C.  M.,  "  La  Villanelle  du  Diable,"  351-356 
"  Lohengrin,"  by  Wagner,  94 
Longfellow's  translation   of   the   "  Divina   Commedia,"   30 

et  seq. 

"  Mab,  Queen,"  Scherzo  of  Berlioz,  24  et  seq. 

MacDowell,  321 

Madness  as  a  subject  in  art,  231  et  seq. 

Mahler,  13,  143,  243;  Fifth  Symphony,  243-260 

"Manfred"  music  of  Schumann,   115,    125,    127;    poem  of 

Byron,  125  et  seq.;  symphony  of  Tschaikowsky,   125- 

132 

Martucci,  symphony  in  D  minor,  301-307 
360 


INDEX 

"Mazeppa,"  poem  of  Hugo,  50  et  seq.;  symphonic  poem  of 

Liszt,  39,  44,  49  et  seq. 
Mendelssohn,  10,  16,  40,  196 
Milton,  28 
Modulation,  75,  76 
"  Moldau  River,  The,"  symphonic  poem  by  Smetana,  190- 

195 

Monteverde,  208 
Moskowski,  3 
Mozart,  92,  93,  144,  274,  290 

National  element  in  music,  2,  3,  10,  14,  114,  143  et  seq., 
178,  179,  189  et  seq.,  195  et  seq.,  199,  299,  300;  schools 
of  music,  7-9,  14,  143 

Neo-Russians,  143  et  seq. 

"  New  World,"  symphony  by  DvOrak,  195-207 

"  Nibelungen  Ring,"  by  Wagner,  12 

Nietzsche,   12 

"  Omphale,  Spinning  Wheel  of,"  by  Saint-Saens,  69  et  seq. 
Orchestration,  244 

Paine,  4 

"  Parsifal,"  by  Wagner,  13 

Pentatonic  scale,  199 

"  Penthesilea,"  symphonic  poem  by  Wolff,  231-242 ;  tragedy 

by  Kleist,  231-236 
Peri,  91,  93 

Phaeton,  by  Saint-Saens,  63-65 
Pohlig,  Carl,  44 

Polyphony,   171-173    (See  Counterpoint,  220) 
Popular  songs,  354 
Preludes,  Les,  by  Lamartine,  41 ;   music  by  Liszt,  39,  41 

et  seq. 
Program  music,  17,  18,  19-27,  29  et  seq.,  39  et  seq.,  279, 

288,  289,  290 

861 


INDEX 

"  Queen  Mab,"  Scherzo  of  Berlioz,  24  et  aeq. 

Rachmaninow,  164;   Symphony  in  E  minor,   164-177 

Raff,  52 

Rameau,  95 

Reger,  243 

Rimsky-Korsakow,     155;     "Antar"     symphony,     155-159; 

"  Sche're'zade,"  symphonic  suite,   159-163 
Ritter,  271 
Rollinat,  351 

"  Romantic  "  symphony    ( See  Bruckner ) 
Romanticist  poetry,  231 
"Romeo    and    Juliet,"    Overture    of    Tschaikowsky,    115; 

Symphony  of  Berlioz,  19-27 
Russian    (See  Neo-Russians) 

Saint-Saens,  8,  44;  symphonic  poems,  59  et  seq. 

Scale  of  whole  tones,  73;  of  five  tones,  199  et  aeq.;  church 

modes,  195  et  seq. 
Scandinavian  music,  143 

"  Sch6r6zade,"  symphonic  suite  (See  Rimsky-Korsakow) 
Schnitzler,  13 
Schopenhauer,   12 
Schubert,  2,  52,  208 

Schumann,  9,  10,  13,  16,  59,  82,  125,  127,  132,  165,  263 
Sennkowsky,  155 

Sgambati,  Symphony  in  D,  300-301 
Shakespeare,  2,  18 

Sibelius,  178;  Symphony  No.  1,  178-188 
Sinigaglia,  300 

"  Sinfonia  Domestica  "    ( See  Strauss ) 
Strauss,  14,  77,  261-298 
Strube,  Symphony  in  E  minor,  329-342 
Sudermann,  13 
Suk,  4 

Symphonic  poem,  9;  of  Liszt,  39-58;  of  Saint-Saens,  59-71 
Symphony,  2,  9  et  seq.,  15-16 
362 


INDEX 

"  Tannhauser,"  by  Wagner,  94 

"Tasso,"  drama  by  Goethe,  45;  poem  by  Byron,  45;  sym- 
phonic poem  by  Liszt,  44  et  seq. 

Tschaikowsky,  16,  17,  114-116;  Fourth  Symphony,  115, 
116-125;  "Manfred"  symphony,  125-132;  Fifth  Sym- 
phony, 132-142;  "  Pathetique"  symphony,  16,  144  (See 
Vol.  II) 

Thematic  treatment  170,  172,  173,  210,  212,  214,  217,  220, 
263-265,  316,  330,  340,  341 

Tennyson,  43 

"Till  Eulenspiegel,"  280  et  seq.;  music  by  Strauss,  262, 
278-288 

"  Tod  und  Verklarung,"  by  Strauss,  44,  263  et  seq. 

Tonality,  73,  75,  76,  331 

"  Tristan  und  Isolde,"  by  Wagner,  11,  12,  13 

Unfinished  symphony,  by  Schubert,  4 

"Villanelle  du  Diable,  La,"   poem  by  Rollinat,   351-352; 

music  by  Loeffler,  351-356 
Volbach,  4,  44 
Volkmann,  4 

Wagner,  10-14,  16,  40,  72,  75,  94-97,  114,  210,  215-218, 
226,  228,  262,  264,  265 

Wolff,  Hugo,  30;  "  Penthesilea,"  231-242;  "Italian  Sere- 
nade," 230 

"Youth  of  Hercules,"  by  Saint-Saens,  65-69 


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